


E=Mc[Cree]^2

by ryu-no-hakai (PrincessNiallxHoran)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Amputee Genji, Blind Date, Bottom Hanzo, F/M, Fluff, General Angst, Hand Job, Kissing, M/M, Marijuana, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Serious injury in later chapters, Smut, Top McCree, University AU, biomed engineer!hanzo, consevationist!mccree, humping, previous injury reference, smut in later chapters, troll!genji, will adjust tags for later chapters and activities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-10-22 09:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessNiallxHoran/pseuds/ryu-no-hakai
Summary: Hanzo's troll of a brother convinces him to head out on a blind date with someone of his choosing, which turns out to be the rugged conservationist student Jesse McCree and all the "hell fucking no" that comes with him. Hanzo is prepared to write him off. What he doesn't take into consideration is the smile, or the freckles, or the fact that Genji possibly knows him a little too well.





	1. Blind [Date] Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fever egg based on a headcanon of Hanzo being a nerd and Jesse having a motorcycle and they're both beyond intelligent. Hopefully it's a good stopping point - I may or may not have 30 pages of this tucked away in Google Drive - so I'm really placing money on trying to find normal stopping points.
> 
> Thanks for giving it a read. I very much appreciate it!

Hanzo knew his social skills weren’t necessarily up to par. He didn’t live the life of the usual college kid, and there were very few things that would convince him to actually go out and party with the other students his age. It didn’t help that when he’d left Japan he’d taken his little brother with him under the clear conditions that Genji was going to school and was going to make something of himself. In many obvious ways, the younger was better adapted for the whole scenario than he was. Of course his marks weren’t nearly as high as his elder brother’s, but he held his own, and somehow managed to balance a thriving social life on the side. Just once Hanzo wished that Genji would struggle with _something_.

The worst thing had to be when Genji tried to help his brother’s pathetic, nonexistent social scene. It was always something new and stupid and he wasn’t really all that interested.

" _Come on, Anija_. What’s the harm in one date?“ Genji was sat on the elder’s bed, knees bent at his sides and hands settled between them. In a perfectly juxtaposed stance, the elder brother had settled himself properly at his desk, math text already open and pencil working frantically at the lined paper. He refused to answer for a long moment, and it was clear that his little sibling was acting as far more of a nuisance than anything else – at least at the current moment. Hanzo took the time to finalize his problem, verifying the answer on his calculator before finally spinning in his desk chair with an exhausted expression. There’s something so juvenile with the way his brother’s bright eyes tracked each movement, and he wanted so much to scoff. Genji was nineteen years old – at some point he’d been under the (obviously ridiculous) assumption that he had to grow up at some point. He didn’t have time for this.

"The harm is that I simply can’t waste an evening doing some sort of strange courting ritual with a random person of your choosing,“ he ran a hand through his long hair, fisting it back at the top of his head and tying it rapidly with an elastic band at his wrist. Before he knows it, Genji is utilizing that scoff he’d yearned for earlier, failing to bite back the whine that rattles his throat.

"You’re cruel, brother – positively rude. Are you insinuating I have bad taste?“ And then he was inching forward comically on the mattress, all lanky limbs and green hair that still made Hanzo’s lips curl into a sneer if he looked at it for too long.

"I’m insinuating that your connections are other barely out of high school graduates – some dropouts too, if I remember – and I have no interest in mingling with the sorts of people who can barely tie their own shoes.“ He would regret it almost instantly as his sibling clutched dramatically at his chest, giving a wounded sound as though Hanzo had punched the very life from his lungs. At least – for a moment – because then his lips were curling into a catlike grin and suddenly there is something within him that he can’t seem to contain.

"I don’t trust your face.“

And then Genji gleefully spilled that the person he had in mind was actually a Dartmouth student, just like Hanzo, and that they were also a bit of an overachiever – though at least this person knew how to turn off their work switch. That was of course followed up with the younger whining that he was offended Hanzo would think such things of him, but his point was made and the elder begrudgingly agreed to suffer an evening out as long as Genji was quiet long enough for him to finish his assignment. After all, he’d been proven quite wrong, hadn’t he?

///

It was one thing to convince Hanzo into going on the date, but it was another to actually get it set up. Genji was consistently on his phone, texting back and forth with this person and asking clarifying questions while Hanzo was desperately trying to work on static equilibrium equations. He was convinced that his brother was more interested in playing matchmaker than either of his two puppets who were on actually going on this blind date - though the way Genji’s phone pinged so rapidly after a text lead him to consider otherwise.

“When are you free? He’s free after four thirty on Wednesday.”

“Who goes on a date on a Wednesday?”

Tap tap tap tap - _swoosh_. **Ping**.

“What about after seven on Friday?”

“I suppose that’s fine.”

Tap tap tap tap - _swoosh_. **Ping**.

“They want to know if you like movies?”

“Do people not?”

Tap tap tap tap - _swoosh_. **Ping**.

“He says he can be here at seven thirty on Friday to pick you up.”

“Genji, I swear to God if you interrupt me once more I’m going to come over there and break your goddamn phone.”

“Such a pity, brother -- since you’re the one who won’t let me leave home without a way to contact you~.”

He could just ground his nineteen year old brother - lock him in a closet and hide him away until it was time to return home to Japan. That wasn’t completely unethical, was it?

///

If Hanzo had been more active with friends and dating, Genji would have been the best wingman, bar none. Throughout the week he’d offered tips and tools of the trade, instructing his elder brother to toy with that long, pretty hair of his, and to bat his eyelashes more often -- no not like that; you look like you have a damn nervous tick -- and perhaps if it had been anyone other than Hanzo they might have picked up a little better. As it was, this was the clay he had to sculpt and he would do his best. That Friday evening when his brother returned from classes, Genji was shoving him into his bedroom, showing off the outfits he’d already chosen and laid out on his sibling’s immaculate bed. The only issue was that the majority of these clothes didn’t belong to him. When questioned, Genji just waved him off and said something about ‘nerd clothes’ and ‘making a good impression’. Hanzo had to counter with the fact that a tee shirt a size too small with the words ‘baby slut’ in a fancy scrawl across the chest certainly wasn’t the impression he wanted to make. And on that note, why in the hell was Genji trying to fit him into clothes that were too goddamn small?

“They aren’t too small, brother - you simply seek to hide yourself and that’s just not cute. Don’t you want him to notice your chest? I was under the impression you were making progress with that nerdy archery team you’re on.”

It seemed impossible to find something they were both satisfied with, but they met halfway with a pair of strategically torn dark wash jeans and a black three quarter tee partially hidden under one of Hanzo’s soft blazers. Initially Genji wouldn’t allow it, saying that it conflicted with the punk vibe of the jeans, but he conceded when the elder threatened to replace the entire thing with a pair of khakis and a button down with a Dartmouth pullover.

It was inching past seven twenty then, and for a moment Hanzo was convinced his brother was going to slaughter him at the door when he tried to step into his oxfords, an incredulous expression smeared across his tired face. In fact, if he could both kill Hanzo and send him on this date, he probably would have. He was digging through his own personal shoe rack for a minute, mumbling aggressively about _dainty ankles_ and _aesthetic_ before he resurfaced with a pair of short, unlaced black boots.

_Your date is going to be here soon and I swear to God if you lace these I will decimate you._

Seven twenty-six and the weight of the fact that he was going out on a date with someone also from Dartmouth was beginning to rest on him. Seven twenty-seven and every rev of a vehicle had him shifting uncertainly to see if someone was pulling into their driveway. Genji was still talking to him, trying to remind him to smile for once and act like someone who wasn’t completely inept when it came to other human beings, but Hanzo wasn’t paying attention. Then came a moment that was going to go down in infamy in the Shimada household as the exact second where the elder brother lost all chill.

There was a tearing roar from outside, the loud purr of a motorcycle making its way down the street startling him into a slight jump. He rolled his eyes, glancing over to Genji as though complaining solely with his eyes, ‘what an asshole’. But Genji wasn’t returning the expression of disdain - rather his mouth was spreading into a shit eating grin and then that obnoxious roar was turning into their driveway.

“Genji-” Hanzo was plastered against the window now, positively gaping at the Harley taking up the pavement leading to their empty garage, “what is that?!” Judging by his brother’s delighted laughter he wouldn’t be getting a straight answer. There were two hands on his shoulders and then Genji was scaling his back, forcing an agitated grunt out of his throat as the younger began waving enthusiastically through the glass. The movement attracted the attention of the cyclist and then he too was waving. Hanzo let out a strangled noise, realizing that through the visor on that helmet they were both perfectly visible. In his simple defense - he panicked, ducking so rapidly that his little brother’s head knocked comically into the glass of the windowpane and they both found their way to the ground. There on his heels Hanzo clasped his hands over his mouth while Genji took a moment to hold his forehead, letting his legs sprawl out in front of him. He was chattering angrily in Japanese, seemingly losing his English skills in the moment as he reached out with a bare foot to kick at Hanzo’s knee.

“ _Hiretsuna kyōdai_!” Bastard brother!

“I thought you said he went to Dartmouth!” Hanzo hissed, recovered enough now to reach out and slap at his sibling’s wayward foot, nearly ready to pin him down and beat him black and blue.

“He does, you useless twat!” Genji wasn’t one to back down from being whacked, his foot now a formidable opponent to the elder’s hand, “do you think every Dartmouth student is as stiff as you?” From there they dissolved into angry hissing, code switching from English to Japanese when certain words just weren’t cutting enough. They might have gone on for quite some time before there were three gentle knocks on the door and an uncertain, unfamiliar voice filtering through.

“Hello? Y’all alright in there?”

Hanzo’s heart thumped aggressively in his chest, his whole body on edge as both brothers stopped lashing out as though on cue. Genji was the first to completely pull himself back together, hopping upright and moving to open the door before the elder could protest. To his credit, he only opened it a crack, grinning brightly at the person on the other side while Hanzo stared wide eyed from the floor.

“Of course, Jesse! We’re perfectly fine -- you see, my brother is like a horse. He spooks easily~” The smooth words were cut off by an audible smack to his knee, and Genji took a moment to lift one leg, cradling the offended body part with a bright yet pained smile, “and doesn’t like being referred to as a horse, clearly. Give us just a moment, yeah?” And then he was shutting the door in his friend’s face, turning incredulously to Hanzo as the man on the other side of the door awkwardly murmured he’d be by his bike. “And you say I’m petulant.”

Hanzo was standing again in a fraction of a second, pacing in short paths in front of his brother, clearly unnerved with the whole situation.

“I won’t get on that thing,” he murmured lowly, “I _can’t_ get on that thing.” But Genji wasn’t listening. Instead he was mimicking Hanzo’s movements, always one step ahead of him to smooth his hair and adjust the lapel of his nerd blazer. He took hold of the elder’s elbow as though escorting him, following along with a few more paces before he was leading the idiot straight out of the door. A moment passed where Hanzo seemed okay with the change, approaching the tall stranger who had removed his helmet. His back was to the two brothers as he dug around in the seat of his bike, but he had pretty wavy chestnut hair and broad shoulders and a goddamn leather jacket paired with a Harley motorcycle.

He dug his heels into the cement, finding it far less stable considering he hadn’t been allowed to lace the damn boots. They both knew full and well they couldn’t have this conversation audibly, instead depending on sibling telepathy paired with expressive gestures and facial twists to clarify exactly how they were feeling. Well - Hanzo did. He was shaking his head frantically, gesturing at the cycle, mouthing ‘no way in hell’ while Genji only smiled below the slight red mark on his forehead - smug - and Hanzo was rapidly losing hope that his brother would ever stick up for him. The elder would have continued to silently plead his case, but then his date was turning around and his sibling was pinching at the inside of his elbow to get him to fucking act right, you child.

“Jesse! Hello! I’m so sorry about that - this is my brother, Hanzo. I may have… Forgotten to tell him about your mode of transportation.” Hanzo wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see when the other had turned around, but it certainly wasn’t what he got. This man - Jesse - was fine. A strong jaw, beautifully bronzed skin - possibly Hispanic - a smattering of freckles over his nose and a fit body wrapped up in a leather jacket and well fitted faded jeans. The spell only lasted a minute because then Jesse was smiling, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah - ma keeps tryin’ ta convince me ta buy myself a truck or somethin’... Don’ have tha heart to tell her it’s not my style,” and then he glanced to Hanzo, all gentle and almost mischievous as he pat the front seat of the bike, “won’t let nothin’ bad happen ta ya, of course.”

Even with the reassurance as Genji pushed him forward, he couldn’t help the absolute terror welling up inside of him. Jesse returned to the bike seat, fishing out another helmet as Hanzo gave one last hopeful, desperate glance to his little brother. Said little brother only waved as though he were sending both his friend and brother off to their first day of school - absolutely condescending and smug before he shouted a quick ‘good bye, have fun, and use protection’ and scuttled back into the house.

Hanzo wanted to apologize initially - his brother was a right brat - but then his date was turning around again, holding out a helmet with a friendly grin. If there had been a point to back out - which there hadn’t been, Genji would have ensured they ended up here one way or another - it was long gone. He took the heavy item carefully and turned it in his hands, trying to decide the best way to go about putting it on as Jesse replaced his own. He allowed Hanzo to struggle for only a moment before he took it back in his own hands, straightening it and pushing it down over his date’s ears.

Hanzo screwed his eyes shut until it was all the way on, making a face at how tight it felt at his jawline. Jesse worked the straps under his chin, tightening just enough to brush against his skin. The material was rough and irritating, but he supposed he would rather it be as such and not being the reason his head was smashed like a melon on the roadside when they inevitably died.

The man clapped a playful hand on the outside of the helmet, and Hanzo tensed slightly, focused now on his date rather than the pressure from the device.

“Hey - not gonna let nothin’ bad happen ta ya, alright?” Through the visor he could still see that easy going smile, and it somehow coerced him into nodding even when every single nerve in his body was screaming to put as much space between him and the bike as possible. Jesse turned, kicking up the stand and throwing one leg over the machine, holding it steady so that Hanzo could climb on in the space behind him.  _ Now or never _ .

With trepidation, the Shimada glanced back toward the house, unsurprised to see Genji watching through the window with the biggest shit eating grin he’d ever seen in his life. He lifted a middle finger to his brother before awkwardly trying to mount the seat, trying and failing to avoid touching Jesse’s shoulders as he did so. Once straddling thick leather, the machine tilted upright, and through only God knew how many inches of foam and plastic, he heard a voice question if he was ready.

_ No. No. No. _

A nod which resulted in an accidental knock of his visor into Jesse’s followed. He swore he heard the man laugh, but that was neither here nor there -  _ especially _ when he twisted the key in the ignition and the massive beast below them roared to life. Instinctually, he scooted forward, his chest bumping against the leather clad back in front of him even as he stubbornly avoided grabbing onto anything on Jesse’s body.

Backing out of the driveway hadn’t been so bad. It was slow, and it was clear that his escort was doing his absolute best not to jostle him. It was short lived, however, because then they were  _ moving _ . It only took about a second before Hanzo was wrapping his arms around that toned chest and squeezing a bit tighter than was probably necessary for the thirty mile per hour zone they were in, and this time he  _ knew _ Jesse was laughing because he could  _ feel _ it. No amount of embarrassment could coerce him to let go, however, even as that honeyed voice managed to shout over the roar of the engine so that Hanzo could hear him.

“We’re only goin’ thirty-three, darlin’.”

Thirty-three felt just like sixty-five - they were both terrifying and probably encouraging gray hairs under the helmet - but  _ turning _ was a different hell altogether. No matter the speed, Hanzo was  _ convinced _ they were going to bite the asphalt each and every time Jesse adjusted their direction.  _ Each and every time _ . It was to the point that he was practically spooning the man from behind, holding on tightly and hiding his face against the strong shoulder. If he had seen the smile written on Jesse’s face, it probably would have served to upset him by proxy.

The ten minute drive into town was an eternity, and for a second Hanzo wasn’t convinced it was over. The roar dissipated and the monster thrummed in decreasing volume as the cylinders stilled. Small tinkling noises replaced everything after a while, and it took him a second to lift his head, realizing they were parked outside of a restaurant -  _ Boloco _ . He carefully unwound his arms from Jesse’s waist, scooting back carefully with a twinge of embarrassment in his movement. His date didn’t seem deterred. He instead reached up to unclasp his helmet at his jaw and lift it up and off his head. Hanzo followed suit, cold, shaky fingers moving to work at the clasp at his own chin. The air had done a number on his fingers, leaving them tender and pink despite the seventy degree weather, but he worked through it, dislodging his head from the helmet and shaking his head slightly to reorient himself. Jesse was reaching back to collect it, freeing his copilot’s hands so that he might be able to climb down.

The one thing Hanzo hadn’t expected was that the vibrations from the bike would leave his ass quite so  _ tingly _ . It was incredible, really. And the joints where his thighs met his groin felt stretched and cramped, which made the whole endeavor of getting  _ off _ the motorcycle just that much more horrible. He stumbled slightly, cursing quietly in Japanese before finding his balance again, sure that he could find a way to blame those untied laces if he thought on it long enough.

“‘S a lil hard to get upright after the firs’ time, I reckon.” The kickstand was flipped down and the rider was dismounting - far more gracefully than Hanzo had - and he was storing the helmets in the seat, locking it back up as quickly as he’d opened it.

“Couldn’ get a read from yer brother as ta what ya like ta eat but - I figure that everyone likes burritos, right?” He offered a small smile, a hopeful lilt teasing at the corners of his lips as he awaited some sort of response. It briefly occurred to Hanzo that he’d actually said absolutely  _ nothing _ at all since they met in the driveway - Genji had managed the (rather inadequate) introduction - and he’d simply followed implication and instruction from then on out. He felt a pang of uncertainty at speaking. There was a definite possibility that the trauma had exacerbated his accent, or that he might just combust for no clear reason from the stress of it all.

“Yes - of course. That’s fine.” He would have spent more time mulling over whether or not that was an adequate response, but Jesse seemed pleased, a grin splitting across his face in relief. 

It was strange to let someone hold a door for him. It was strange to read a menu and see absolutely  _ nothing _ that looked familiar. It was particularly strange when the man actually offered to order  _ for _ him when he seemed lost by all the strange food items. Part of him was a little agitated – he was an adult and could handle himself when it came to getting lunch – but another part was extraordinarily relieved. It was the little things. For once, Hanzo wasn’t struggling to weigh decisions about every aspect of his day to day life, and it was actually pretty incredible.

Jesse asked him to find a spot to sit while he waited for the food, ‚ _ ya don’t have ta wait – guessin’ I just wanna make their evenin’ a little smoother, _ ’ and he picked a colorful little booth by the window. So far, the only issues he’d had for the evening was that  _ growling _ motorcyle outside and the fact that he hadn’t been allowed to pay for his own meal. It was no problem – he would find a way to tuck a twenty in the man’s clothing when he wasn’t looking.

While he waited for the other’s return, his mind skipped over to his workload. He had a pretty large assignment waiting for him at home and a part of him hoped the movie – whatever it was they were seeing – wouldn’t last so long. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the content, but rather that the equations took a goddamn millenia to work through.  Similarly, he hoped Genji was eating something that wouldn’t positively destroy his body – the kid was worthless in the kitchen and tended to opt for something greasy and horrible if Hanzo wasn’t there to shut him down.

_ Speaking of greasy and horrible _ .

Jesse was back with a tray and was setting it between them. The side pointed towards himself wasn’t the concern – but his date’s side looked like it was literally going to kill him.  There was no rhyme or reason to it either. It looked like he’d asked the server to just slam a tortilla down and hurl as many ingredients into it as he could.  Hanzo’s face gave away his sheer confusion and before he knew it the other was laughing brightly and unwrapping the tinfoil from the burrito.

“It’s the  _ goloco _ . I start off wi’ ‚the summer’ and tack on ta make it tha ‚classic mexican’.  Add a bit o’ chorizo and ya got yerself a damn good burrito. Not so bad as it looks, promise,“ then he’s motioning to the clean wrap on Hanzo’s plate with a proud smile, „n’ that’s a mediterranean wrap. S’got mostly salad stuff. Y’look like yer pretty interested in keepin’ fit.“ It was clearly a compliment judging by the way brown eyes scanned down what they could see above the table.

Hanzo just swallowed hard, giving a slight nod and picking at the foil around his own dinner. If he’d been looking up, he’d have seen the way Jesse’s lips tilted at the corners before he manhandled his bursting meal.

They made pleasant conversation. Hanzo asked about the bike (which Jesse found hilarious), and Jesse asked about where Hanzo and Genji used to live.  Finally, the topic turned to something a little more domestic – something that had been picking at him since he’d seen that stupid mode of transportation.

“Genji says you’re a student at Dartmouth?“ He took a bite of his wrap, eyeing Jesse as he did so. There was a part of him that still didn’t necessarily believe it.

“Sure am. M’majorin’ in the environmental studies program,“ he answered, wiping a dab of mango sauce from the corner of his mouth with a bright and playful grin, „why? Don’ think I’m cut out fer it?“

Hanzo’s eyes widened, clearly being called out. He held up a hand in surrender, trying to swallow the bite in his mouth before collecting his response.

“No! It’s not that I just –,“ he motioned helplessly to the other, then outside where the motorcycle sat, „you just don’t  _ look _ like it, is all.“ Perhaps it hadn’t helped as Jesse was now clutching at his chest in offense. Or – mock offense?

“That’s just  _ cruel _ , darlin’!“ But there was a grin on his face, and after a few moments he was motioning across the table. „Ya know, ya don’t really look like  _ yer _ cut out for it none. ‚Cept fer the jacket.“ He took a sip from his soda, grinning around the straw.

“These aren’t even my clothes!” a quick beat, “except for the blazer!”

He paused for a moment, watching the realization dawning over Jesse’s face before it positively lit up, delighted laughter booming from the man’s chest. Hanzo’s eyebrows only furrowed as he watched the other set his drink down and reach up to rub at his face. Eventually, when the humor dawned on him he was pressing a hand to his face, both out of personal realization and the fact that he was trying to hide the smile creeping up on his face.

“Sorry - m’sorry,” the murmur was cut off with a few remaining chuckles and Jesse was pursing his lips, doing his best to make a straight face in such a dire time, “blazer’s yers then - suits ya.”

Hanzo would have replied - it’s neither here nor there if it would be positive - but he was too busy fighting through the memory of some of the more -- eccentric clothing Genji had tried to force on him.

“He tried to offer me a tee shirt that said ‘ _ baby slut _ ’.” And now it was Hanzo who laughed, bringing up his second hand to shield his jubilated expression as he enjoyed the memory. Across from him Jesse remained quite still, a slightly awed expression on his face before he too let out a bright laugh.

All in all, dinner went nicely. Turned out Jesse was looking into being a conservationist. He was interested in making sure natural resources were protected and that nature was defended from people who might seek to destroy it for profit. Hanzo thought it was relatively nice, though perhaps not the most… Financially beneficial degree. But whatever made him happy. It wasn’t like it really mattered.

It was when they left that he was a little… Uncertain. Once he stepped through the door he realized with no amount of placidity that they were going to have  to remount that growling monstrosity. He felt a shiver run down his spine out of the sheer nerves twitching on end, and it was growing hard to find his reserve and get back on the thing. Surely it wouldn’t be  _ so  _ rude if he were to call a taxi? 

“Can’t wait ta get back on her?” And it was clearly a joke, amusement written in Jesse’s tone as he stepped up beside him. “Nah, nah. Look, theater’s just right there - don’ even have ta start her up.” He made a show of this by gently patting his pocket where his keys clinked gently. It also seemed to delight his date when he absolutely sank with his sigh of relief.

Jesse had a lot of trouble believing that Hanzo hadn’t really been out and about in this part of town. It seemed his date’s experiences were accurate to what Genji had probably told him. All in all, it sort of made Hanzo wonder why the other had agreed to the date in the first place - they were clearly of a different crop - but interestingly enough, Jesse didn’t seem to mind.

When they stepped into the Nugget Theater (Hanzo wanted to know who the hell thought  _ that _ was a good theater name), they scanned over the whopping four films that were playing. After an offhand comment about how small the place was, Jesse retaliated with the fact that it felt homey. Perhaps it did.

After settling upon the newest action craze of the end of summer, they stopped at concessions. Hanzo still wasn’t able to touch his wallet, and the whole scenario was still Dali level of surreal. Part of him worried that this guy would  _ want _ for something. He’d seen it and heard it enough in the media to know it was an epidemic - young people who pay on dates believing they’re entitled to something more - but a part of him sort of doubted that Jesse was the type to pull that sort of thing. Regardless, his fingers were itching to stuff some cash in his pockets to be clean of the whole thing.

They settled close together in the last few rows of the theater, and Hanzo couldn’t help the uncertainty in his chest. This was prime makeout time, wasn’t it? Now that he thought about it, he’d never seen an American movie where the young couple  _ didn’t _ suck face.  _ Should _ he? He glanced over to Jesse in the dim movie theater, eyeing his perpetually smiling profile and momentarily entertaining the idea. It wasn’t like the kid was bad looking at  _ all _ . Surely it wouldn’t hurt if it were to happen – though that would be filed under the assumption that Jesse wanted to kiss him first. What was even more interesting was that Hanzo couldn’t tell if he wanted to or if it was something that he felt was expected. One way or another, it became increasingly obvious that they were going to be the only ones in the damn room if no one showed up and, and if they were going to consider this possibility it wouldn’t be impeded by other people.

As though reading his mind, Jesse pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at it.

“So,“ he began with legitimate amusement, „I reckon we’ll be the only ones here – this’n was one’a tha biggest blockbuster flops since  _ The Woman in Black _ .“ Hanzo didn’t get the reference, but judging by the glint of mirth in his date’s eyes it was a pretty bad flick. Luckily for Hanzo, it was always a little better when the films had no merit. American movies tended to move a little too fast for him to keep up, and he often missed pivotal points because he wasn’t all too familiar with colloquialisms. English academia – now that was his skillset.

“No concern,“ he answered gently, a small smile of relief written on his face, „it should serve to be amusing regardless.“

The reviews hadn’t lied – the film was absolute  _ garbage _ . None of the characters had any sort of sensical backstory, the main motivations were poorly written pathways to sex and drugs, and ultimately the whole thing culminated to the protagonist wanting to ‚win’ his girlfriend back from a gang by way of a drag race. Throughout it, though, instead of worrying about whether he should have gotten a stick of gum to freshen his breath, they verbally abused the screen.

“Han – holy shit – so some bigwig corporate fatcats actually sat down – right – and one of ’em was like – this is what I got, y’all. This ugly, tangled mess’a wannabe Michael Bay explosions an’ sex’ploitations. What d’ya think?“

“That’s the best idea I have heard in months, associate! Certainly we can find the money for this! How much can we pay our special effects team?“

“Twelve billion and seven dollars, I reckon!“

“What about the writing staff?“

“About three sandwiches and a nickel, iffin yer generous an’ round up!“

Neither would be surprised if an usher had to come in to tell them to quiet down after that – the laughter that followed was nothing short of disruptive and raucous – but no one came and neither of them actually felt bad about it.

By the time they left the little theater, it was dark. Both had nice, high spirits, and scattered laughs and playful chatter filled the quiet air around them. The others exiting the theater watched them warily, perhaps having heard them through the walls, but it didn’t register to either of them.

Hanzo’s good mood didn’t even fizzle out completely when the motorcycle came back into sight in the Boloco parking lot.  Jesse had his eye on the smaller’s reactions, watching the way his steps slowed and then sped back up, noting the expression of determination on his features.

“Ya ready fer round two?“ He asked, eyebrows up playfully as Hanzo surveyed the machine, crossing his arms thoughtfully.

“I suppose I have to be if I am to get home. I certainly can’t trust Genji to collect me.“ The words were rather crushing, but the smile in his voice showed a playful side he didn’t verbalize.

This time he pulled the offered helmet on himself and buckled the itchy latch with unpracticed fingers. When the cycle was balanced, he lifted his leg up and over the seat and settled in carefully behind the other, his hands beginning to tremble lightly as the nerves set in. This time he wrapped his arms immediately around Jesse’s waist to hold close. His feet found two pegs on either side now as well, giving him a place to consciously balance his weight which – honestly – relieved quite a lot of tension in his body.

“’m fixin’ ta jet – ya ready?“ It was muffled, but without the roar of the engine it met Hanzo’s ears clearly.

“Ready.“

The engine revved loudly, aggressive roar startling against his ears and bringing a surge of doubt to his mind. Hanzo’s arms wrapped a little tighter and he received a little pat to his hand before he took off through the parking lot and back onto the road.

This particular ride was more liberating. Now that he had those pegs and knew what to expect, it was actually kind of fun. He let his arms loosen slightly and perked up behind the driver, looking over his broad shoulder to the highway ahead of them. He could only see what was illuminated by the headlights of the cycle, which almost seemed to soothe his psyche a little more – his mind couldn’t be overstimulated by possibility of failure if he couldn’t see.

This time the ten minute ride felt like half that, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit disappointed that it already over. This time his heart was thumping with  _ positive _ adrenaline, and there was something immature in his heart that wanted to convince Jesse to keep driving. Jesse pulled up into the driveway where Genji had left the light on, coming to a gentle stop.

Unfortunately Hanzo was nothing if not proactive with forcing himself into doing the right thing, and even if it was begrudgingly, he did climb off the cycle. Jesse was clearly better at it, settling his motorcycle on the kickstand and removing his helmet in record time while the smaller still struggled with his clasp.

“Thank you - ,“ He murmured as Jesse took the passenger helmet from his hands, locking it back up in the seat for the night, „it has been a very enjoyable evening.“ He pressed his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he made his way to the door accompanied by the other man.

“It was my pleasure, Han, honest.“ They reached the doorway and now Hanzo felt a new sort of apprehension – the sort of apprehension he hadn’t felt since Odashi Mayumi had asked him to the honors social back home.

The man felt positively dwarfed beside Jesse McCree as he lifted his forearm up on the door, cornering his date without encroaching too closely on his space to make the situation uncomfortable.  In fact, for a few moments Hanzo was particularly enraptured.

“Loved takin’ ya out – sure would love ta see ya again, Han. Iffin’ yer interested in the same.“ Then he was lifting his free hand to cup along Hanzo’s jaw, ghosting the pad of his thumb across his lower lip with a soft intensity in his eyes and –

“ _ Yeah, _ brother! Get some!” Genji had pressed himself against the window he’d knocked his head into earlier, palms plastered against the glass and a shit eating grin spread across his face. The younger’s presence startled them both out of their positions, jumping away from one another as though they’d just been caught by Hanzo’s  _ father _ . He gaped, shoulders tense and heart thrumming as he tried to collect himself. He could feel the heat spreading rapidly on his face and ears, and he briefly entertained the idea of beating his brother into a small, purpled glob. Jesse seemed to get himself back together sooner, and he was holding up a middle finger to the figure in the window before turning back to his date.

“‘M guessin’ he killed tha moment, huh?” At the question he couldn’t find his voice for a moment, sighing sharply through his nose before McCree was hooking his index finger under the other’s chin, forcing him to look up with gentle encouragement as he put himself strategically between the window and his date, “c’mon, gorgeous. Tell me. Can I still kiss ya?”

_ You certainly can not. I don’t suppose it’s wise. He  _ **_smashed_ ** _ the mood. It’s too soon. We’ve only had one date _ .

“That would be fine.”

The expression on Jesse’s face switched from something so suave and sure to another much less well put together expression - he appeared delighted. Perhaps he’d expected Hanzo to call the whole thing off - or maybe he just liked kissing people. Who knew?

Jesse leaned in carefully then, closing the space between them slightly and replacing that soft hand on his jawline. From the glow of the porchlight Hanzo could see each little freckle - every slight shadow from each individual eyelash as they fluttered against his cheek. He knew Genji was still at the window - he could hear the little asshole shouting and smacking the glass - but it all seemed to fade out when chapped lips met his own in a gentle collision.

Just like with the motorcycle, as soon as Hanzo was apt to enjoy it, it was gone. The salt from the popcorn they had shared lingered on his lips from where Jesse had touched him, and for a moment he was positive he felt that shitty, romance novel description of tingling across his mouth. A few more moments passed, only an inch or so apart before his date straightened his spine, a friendly smile on his face and a subtle flush highlighting that dark skin and further illuminating the freckles on his nose.

“Well I - I reckon’ it’s gettin’ late. ‘N yer brother seems like he’s wantin’ ta have a word with ya.” As if on cue the ruckus from the window swirled back into Hanzo’s mind and he was giving a slight nod, a little dumbfounded still by how  _ well _ they’d slotted together. Then he was slipping by Jesse’s side and opening the door, poking his face in to watch as Genji continued to make aggressive hand gestures by the window. He chanced a glance back where the man still stood, waving a small goodbye as Hanzo clearly struggled to decide how to proceed. He finally lifted his own hand, wagging his fingers gently and stepping inside to let the smile overtake his entire face.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji cruises for bruises and Jesse bothers Hanzo with his genuine personality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still completely unbeta'd. I ask for a nice egg in these trying times. Minor angst initiation. Jesse is a good boy. I am very sleepy and I hope this is an acceptable addition. #Bless.

Naturally Genji was all up in his brother’s business immediately after the door was closed. It was as if the kid was suddenly glued to his side - interested in everything Hanzo had to say but not really giving him the time to say any of it. He wanted to know what they did - did Hanzo have fun? Did he use the tricks Genji showed him? - but more importantly he wanted to know if anything interesting happened. The elder wasn’t sure what sort of person his brother thought he was, so he simply evaded each and every question with the kind of extreme precision that only Hanzo Shimada could muster.

“Did you eat?” Hanzo countered, not addressing any of the questions Genji asked and bypassing everything altogether.

“What?” He was clearly caught off guard, having expected something from his brother’s juicy date.

“Food - did you eat it?” Hanzo was rummaging through the fridge now, trying to find a bottle of water to wash down all the crap popcorn he’d consumed that night. It was too much and he was beginning to feel a little sick. Or Genji was too close to him. Either way.

“ _You_ are dodging the question,” the younger grinned wolfishly as he trailed after Hanzo, who took a seat at the dining room table, “you are dodging all the questions.” And then he turned a dining room chair around and straddled it, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them with his whole body facing his brother. Hanzo couldn’t understand this consistent badgering and instead gave a frustrated frown as he cracked open his water. Almost a minute passed then while he drank from the bottle, unable to ignore the burning feeling of Genji staring at him. Finally he set the bottle down with an aggravated grunt.

“What?”

“Did you suck his dick? I heard rumors he’s hung, if you like that sort of thing.”

“Genji Shimada!”

“That’s a no - did he suck _your_ dick?”

Hanzo stood with a sigh that clearly stated he was finished the conversation, capping his water and heading wordlessly to his bedroom as Genji followed behind like a dog after his master.

“So you guys didn’t suck but you gave him a handie, right?”

“Good _night_ , brother.”

It wasn’t the first time Hanzo had shut his bedroom door in his younger brother’s face, and it probably wouldn’t be the last that week. He could hear Genji yelling through the cheap wood that ‘there is always tomorrow, Anija!’ and that on its own was a threat. By the time he actually settled in at his desk and his his eyes scanned his backpack, he groaned, pressing both hands to his face. Fuck he had so much work to do if he was going to finish his senior project on time.

//

Genji had left him blissfully alone for the night, and he took it upon himself to work late. He wasn’t used to this much of a delay in his evening and it was a bit of an issue, admittedly. Part of him didn’t mind at all though – he genuinely had a wonderful time out with Jesse McCree – and he’d say it was an experience he wouldn’t mind repeating. Hanzo made sure to lock his door before pulling out his notebooks and materials, a base outline of a prosthetic laid out on his desk.

When he was told about the senior project a year and a half ago, he knew immediately what he wanted to do. Biomedical engineering left him with countless options, but a prosthetic arm beginning from the elbow had him far more dedicated than any of the other possibilities given the shitty, clumsy prosthetic his brother had on his right side. Of course Genji had no idea because he’d honestly just end up being pissed about it.

_Hanzo, I’m over it. Fucking let it go._

Han lifted the flimsy outline and marked along the edge of the palm, then down the wrist. He measured the line quickly and scribbled down the measurements before marking along the width of the forearm and doing the same. He’d done his time feeling guilty with no outlet – this was his opportunity to fix it.

Hanzo had been working for quite a few hours, headphones in and eyes focused when the buzz of a text message interrupted him. He tapped it open, sighing as he noted who it was from. It took him a moment to adjust to the kanji, way more used to his class mates’ texts in English.  
[sms from: Sparrow] Hanzo why are you still up?  
[sms from: Sparrow] You’re gonna be a mess tomorrow if you don’t get some rest.

Hanzo leaned back in his desk chair, glancing over at the time and groaning lowly as he noted it was nearly three AM. God. Jesse McCree had messed up his schedule.  
[sms: Sparrow] I need to work.  
[sms: Sparrow] Why are you still up?

He knew the answer before he hit send, but he went for it anyway. At the end of it all, he actually was pretty fucked for the morning - it was worthless to argue his point either way.

[sms from: Sparrow] Because I get to sleep in in the morning. Duh.  
[sms from: Sparrow] Whatever. Try to actually sleep before work this time, okay?  
[sms from: Sparrow] Also I gave Jesse your number. Says he forgot to ask. I figured it was fine.

The elder thumbed through the texts and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to even out his breaths. He had intended to be the deciding factor if he was going to share his personal information – after all it had only been one date and he wasn’t terribly keen on losing more nights like he was now – but that was clearly out the window. Hanzo rocked from side to side in his chair for a moment before composing his reply.  
[sms: Sparrow] You bet. Try not to be a lazy asshole tomorrow. I’ll leave you some breakfast to heat up in the fridge and I’ll be home by three.

He knew Genji meant well – wanted Hanzo to be happy – but sometimes it would just be easier if he was a little less involved. Perhaps it was the divines intervening on behalf his brother’s stolen childhood when Hanzo did the same exact thing to him.  
He set his phone back down, the music resuming and blasting away his uncertainty. What he was doing now was far more important than some stupid barista job. Even if said barista job helped him get save up a little extra cash on the side.

To his credit, Hanzo did sleep a little; a few hours before he had to be up and dressing himself to head out to work. While he showered he set the rice cooker, and once out he started scrambling eggs. A quick mix and a bowl of breakfast later he was tucking the rest of it away in the fridge, as promised, for his shit stain of a brother.

Hanzo couldn’t say he really minded his job. It paid for what the scholarships didn’t, and he had a full half hour for lunch that he generally spent studying and planning. Sometimes Genji would hop a train to come for that half hour and bring him something to eat. Other times he’d try to extort free coffee, but the gesture was still generally appreciated. That day Genji did both, which was a little interesting considering that Hanzo had expected him to sleep until at least noon. After all God only knew how late he was up sexting girls from his graduating class. This lead the elder to the far more important question of what Genji actually wanted.

 _“Is this a trade or are you wanting something bigger?“_ At this point his coworkers didn’t even flinch when he started speaking Japanese in front of them – and if they saw Genji they knew it was incoming.

“What! _Anija_ – why wouldn’t I come to see my favorite big brother?“ Now his coworkers were turning because Genji had broken the pattern, responding in the matrix language. Hanzo merely sighed, waving to the barista covering him to go ahead and make his brother’s order while he pulled out his wallet to cough up the cash for it.

“Because you never wake up before noon on Saturdays.“ It was a simple observation, but Genji was grinning a bit.

 _“Caught me,“_ back to Japanese, and Hanzo’s eyes were narrowing because that familiar grin was spreading yet again over Genji’s face which meant he was in dangerous waters, _“Jesse needs a favor. I help him, he helps me; it’s how a friendship works – not that you’d know anything about it.“_ He leaned against the countertop to his right, and for a moment Hanzo couldn’t help but glance down to the well fitting glove hiding the prosthetic.

_“He’s got to take a math class for his general credit – seems he pushed it off a little and now with more of his bigger classes, he’s struggling to find the time to study – so I figured I’d offer your services.“_

Hanzo has half a mind to smack the drink out from under the machine and steal his 5.85$ right back out of the drawer. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Jesse. That wasn’t it. The guy was nice and everything but he was suffering through his senior project. He didn’t have time to try and help some charismatic southerner work his way through statistics. And what was more was that Genji was getting a favor out of this – not Hanzo. Not the guy being bullied into going out of his way and getting screwed into being a tutor. As the emotions transformed his features, his little brother’s expression grew brighter and more amused, and then he was sipping on an iced coffee seemingly out of nowhere and just simply waiting for Hanzo to get himself in order.

 _“What are you getting out of this?“_ He sounded angry and now his coworkers were actually looking over. It was never a good sign when he lost his cool during the middle of the day – it meant that they were going to have to deal with an enraged Shimada for the rest of the afternoon.

 _“Why – the benefit of my brother’s social well being, of course.”_ There was a gentle shrug, and Genji made it perfectly clear that he was withholding an undetermined amount of information that he was proud to keep to himself.

_“I suppose I’ll just ask Jesse.”_

For a moment Genji looked startled, not having expected the work around, but his smile came back as soon as it flickered away and he was handing out a little tupperware container that was still warm from however he’d cooked what was inside.

“Have a beautiful day, _darlin’_.“ Southern twanged English.

_“Suck up.“_

At two Hanzo was cleaning up and preparing to get off shift. By two-thirty he was walking out of the building, waving to his boss as he did so. The man made his way to the train, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders and moving to turn his phone back on after his work day.

[sms from: unknown] hey hanzo. its jesse. how are you, gorgeous?  
Hanzo had half a mind to close the screen and shove his phone back in his pocket, but he refrained. It wasn’t Jesse’s fault that Genji was a moron. Besides – the compliment really was lovely. He quickly made a new contact, simply titling him “McCree“.

[sms: McCree] Acceptable. I just left work. And yourself?  
It was only a moment before his phone was vibrating, and Hanzo briefly wondered if Genji disclosed when he got off work.

[sms from: McCree] aww. just acceptable? im alright. happier now to hear from ya. sorry i forgot to get your number. might be a lil weird to have your brother ask if i could have it.

Hanzo squinted slightly. His little brother was in some deep shit when he got home. The implication that he had been asked was the most inaccurate thing he’d heard in days and he didn’t appreciate it. It felt a little… Manipulative.

[sms: McCree] Think nothing of it.  
[sms: McCree] I hear I will be tutoring you.

He was trying to be gentle with the whole situation. He wanted to snap and ask if Jesse knew anything about being a fourth year biomed student, but he kept himself under wraps. Not his fault. Not his fault.

[sms from: McCree] yea! thanks so much. i was pretty unsure when i talked to genji but he said ya were alright with it. just tell me when and i can meet ya whenever, wherever.  
[sms from: McCree] but iffin at all possible, would ya be okay ta come to mine this weekend? i gotta house sit for my room mate. feedin’ his cat ’n all.

Hanzo sighed heavily, carefully twirling his phone in his hands as he considered it. He didn’t think poorly of Jesse – not at all – but he had to work on his project and he couldn’t afford to get stuck there in case something happened. Not only that, but he wasn’t particularly sure he was ready to be alone in private with the other man, and it wasn’t like he had reliable transportation on the off chance something went wrong. On the other hand he hadn’t laughed so hard or enjoyed himself that much with someone in quite some time.

Hanzo agreed tentatively, though he ensured he shared the fact that it was a very busy year, and depending on how his brother behaved he may be unable to leave him alone for long. Of course it was pegged as a joke, but the truth behind it was undeniable. Granted that was if Genji lived through to the weekend. He had been quite the brat as of late.

When he finally wandered in through the front door, his little brother was nowhere to be found and he was able to jump immediately into his work. It meant he would have to throttle the brat at a later date, but Hanzo Shimada was nothing if not good at holding grudges. He instead locked himself away for the remainder of the afternoon with sporadic thoughts of a freckled smile intervening here and there.

//

Oddly enough, the next time Hanzo saw Jesse wasn’t when they had planned to meet up over the weekend. Instead it was in the university library on that Thursday. He couldn’t remember having ever seen the other before in his life, let alone at the library but… Then again he tended not to see much at the library to begin with. Often his nose was so buried in notebooks and theories that he really didn’t notice anything that went on around him. In fact, the only time he happened to look up from studying was when Genji texted him to tell him it was late and the trains would stop running soon. This time, however, he was startled out of his studies by the movement of someone sliding into the chair across from him. He glanced up, prepared to fight to the death over his desk space before realizing who it was. Hanzo’s expression softened, quite possibly more by surprise than any sort of fond feelings that he certainly wasn’t ready to admit to, and carefully pulled out his headphones.

“Jesse - good afternoon.” It was only a beat before that playful smile was tilted upside down. Hanzo squinted, chancing a glance around himself with curiosity. Usually he was more aware of causing tension during conversation, but this seemed to make absolutely no sense. Jesse seemed to notice the dumbfounded expression pretty quickly and he reached up to scratch his head through that mop of unruly hair.

“I s’pose if ya call 12:50 at night afternoon.” It only took a moment before Hanzo quickly realized his mistake with a wild gaze sent toward his phone. He’d gotten too buried in his work - too close to a plausible formula for the angles of a more precise prosthetic that he’d lost track of anything and everything, and to top it off, Genji hadn’t sent his usual text and - the trains would stop in ten minutes.

“Hey, hey. Whatchya lookin’ so upset fer?” At that point, Jesse started looking genuinely concerned, particularly since Hanzo had begun to pack all of his papers and books away in an absolute frenzy. The flustered student didn’t reply at first, and it was unclear if he intended to at all as he stuffed his laptop into his bag and sorted through the pile of books left over on the desk, checking barcodes and decimals for the sake of hurling them back towards the general direction they came from.

“Darlin’ - darlin’ hey.” Hanzo had been moving so rapidly, so desperate to make up for lost time that he’d inadvertently ignored everything that had been said. His desperation was worthless anyway, given that it took him 20 minutes on a good day to make it to the station; but logic wasn’t particularly on his side here. The final hey had his neck snapping, turning to face the other with frenzied eyes because in Hanzo’s humble opinion, Jesse was far too relaxed about this whole thing. He was going to end up stuck here on campus if he couldn’t make that train, and he had nowhere else to go.

“Remember ta breathe - what’s tha problem, Han?” If Jesse hadn’t looked and sounded so genuinely concerned, Hanzo might have written him off as patronizing, but as it was the kid looked like a damn puppy and he couldn’t bite back the slight shame in his reaction. Something wouldn’t let him expose that raw cruelty that he would have dished out to almost anyone else who had brought him such terrible news.

“I just -,” he glanced at his phone again, sighing miserably and letting his elbows thunk on the table so he could drop his face into his palms, “I am on a fast track to missing the last train home that I physically can’t catch.” It was muffled against his skin, but Jesse seemed to hear him and he gave a soft understanding noise. Then he was shifting from across the table to the seat beside the other, laying his large hands over his thighs and drumming his fingers against them. Hanzo didn’t stir, seemingly prepared to sulk in his misery until a better idea came along.

“S’a bummer,” Jesse murmured lightly, fingers continuing to twitch rhythmically against his jeans, “M’ guessin’ Genji ain’t got a way ta pick ya up’r nothin’?”

Hanzo was clearly struggling to process a lot of information at the moment, so it was perhaps fair that he might not be able to keep up with the other man’s southern verbiage at such a speed. Genji. A moment of frustration tore through him, and he began placing perhaps unnecessary blame on his brother for not contacting him as he always did. Why was it tonight of all nights that he fell through? It only lasted for a moment before his disappointment in himself set in and he was sitting back up in his seat with an expression that read his exhaustion and distress.

“Genji doesn’t drive,” and it was stated simply enough, though he shifted to place his arm over his waist to grab the elbow opposite in a gesture of clear discomfort, “might have to pay for a taxi, I suppose.” Now that he had a plan of action (undesirable, but possible), he was less panicked, and clearly less willing to get up right away. With a clearer expression, he glanced over to Jesse who looked quite uncomfortable given the situation and pursed his lips into an awkward smile that resembled pain more than support.

“What are you doing up so late? Surely you have classes tomorrow?” He subconsciously released his elbow and reached up, rubbing slightly over his face in his own exhaustion.

“An’ you don’t?” There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes and then Hanzo was furrowing his brows. Touché. His companion seemed pleased with the wordplay as well, and beamed when the engineer gave a small smile. Hanzo’s phone vibrated beside him and the smile fell as he glanced tiredly to it. The text gave him an escape from admitting his own shortcomings if he addressed it rather than Jesse at the very least.

[sms from: Sparrow] Hanzo hell I fell asleep I’m really sorry. I know you count on my texts. I should have been up.

His lips twitched again into a very small smile, and in his peripheral vision he could see Jesse sitting up in response to the fluctuation in mood. Luckily for his brother he’d already dropped the blame he wanted to make the younger shoulder and had, appropriately, carried it on his own.

[sms: Sparrow] It is not your responsibility to help me keep time. I am an adult.

Beside him the southerner was itching to ask questions - Hanzo could tell by the way he was gazing between him and the active phone in his hands. Within seconds it was buzzing again and he felt a fond smile spread across his face. Sometimes his brother could lighten his heart - it wasn’t all bad.

[sms: from Sparrow] But how are you going to get home, brother? God - I’m sorry.

At the question he gave a small sigh, uncertain as to how to answer. Taxis weren’t the safest experience in the United States most of the time and it was one of those things Genji would complain about. Before he could formulate a reply, his phone was lighting up again and Hanzo was shifting gears to glare down at the glowing screen in frustration. He’d have to break it to the kid sooner or later that he couldn’t just offer people up without their permission.

[sms from: Sparrow] I’ll text Jesse. He’s usually up pretty late - he can take you home.

He was in the midst of texting Genji back before he could even read the entirety of the message, his fingers working in a flurry across the keyboard. This time he wasn’t holding back - all semblance of self control and good behavior was lost on him in his absolute desperation to keep that from happening. However, before he could hit send he heard the subtle vibrations in the pocket of the man next to him and he felt all the air depress from his lungs.

This was it. This was how he died. How absolutely embarrassing.

His eyes remained trained on Jesse as he dug his phone out of his blue jeans, unlocking it with the unique code and tapping into his messages. Then soft brown eyes were flicking up to Hanzo, accompanied by a smile that would have melted him if he weren’t frozen with dread.

“If ya needed a place ta stay, all ya had ta do was ask.”

Wait a damn minute - this wasn’t at all what Genji had said he was going to ask - in fact it was so far out of the goddamn ballpark that initially Hanzo couldn’t find words to argue. Maybe if he knew Jesse better he’d grab the man’s phone out of his hand to see exactly what it was that his brother said, but as of that moment it seemed highly inappropriate. Instead, he sat in the most stoic, tense position he could manage, his heart thudding aggressively in his chest as he chanced a smile that felt borderline sociopathic.

“I would never ask something so…” Hanzo trailed off, barely able to find the vocabulary to say what he wanted to without crushing that eager expression, “sensitive of someone I only recently met.” And he liked to believe it was a bit of a hint - say no, for the love of God - but Jesse is simply shrugging him off with a smile like it was absolutely nothing.

“We southerners ain’t nothin’ iffin we’re not hospitable, Hanzo. Sides - y’all got a pretty long ride by train. It’d be a right shame if ya didn’t get some sleep in before yer first class.” Jesse stood then, still all smiles and friendly posture and Hanzo suffered a brief moment of complete lack of practicality from the sheer presence of such a pleasant human being. Instead of snapping to his senses and backing out, like he should have, he followed suit, standing and tucking his chair in behind him. However, he was really going to need to have a conversation with Genji about sharing personal information - such as the fact that Hanzo was about as bad with sleep schedule as he was with making friends.  
He was preparing to grab his backpack, but the damn thing appeared to be floating away from him… All borderline thirty pounds of it. The bastard was picking up his bag. Now that was unnecessary. 

“McCree - you do not need to -,” but Jesse had none of it, just slung it over his shoulder and adjusted it slightly before straightening up.

“It’s Jesse to you, darlin’. Jeeze, though - you walk around with this’n on ya all the time?” It wasn’t a real question - just an exclamation as he took in the weight now settled on his shoulders. Hanzo felt strange - light - and he wasn’t sure he liked it. It felt like he’d lost something important even though he knew he had everything he needed. He threw one last glance to the books on the table, deciding that - maybe just this once - he’d be that guy that left everything on the surface.

“What are you doing here so late?” Hanzo reiterated curiously, “you do not carry your own backpack, so you were not studying.” He honestly knew next to nothing about the guy. He couldn’t make assumptions or inferences based on his actions or personality - only the physical attributes and there was something about only knowing so little that which was just… Unsatisfactory. He’d never admit that it was because he might like to know a little more - that would suggest genuine interest.

“I work at the library a couple’a times a week. Shift ended at twelve. Fixin’ to take a quiz next week and thought it might be a good idea ta study proper. ‘Cept I got a lil frustrated ‘n had ta clock out before I smashed a screen. Ya know the feelin’.” They made their way down the stairs and Hanzo gave a nod in understanding - if he ever went a day of studying without that sensation he was probably dead or dying - and in his own opinion there was no shame in it. There was only shame if you let it overwhelm you.

“Half an hour is a short studying session.” He commented, arching an eyebrow up to Jesse as though offering some sort of challenge.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, I need my tutor ta help make sense’a things.” Then he’s met with another warm smile and Hanzo stuffs his spiel about shame and honor back down his throat. “Looks like ya were here a long time, righ’? Workin’ on that project o’ yers?” He rewards the question with an approving grunt, suddenly keenly aware of the tens of designs of the prosthetic in his backpack slung over Jesse’s shoulder. He felt a moment of possession and protection wash over him and he was almost tempted to ask for it back now with quite a bit more demand to ensure it ended up in his grasp again. He had to swallow that feeling down too, not wanting to seem ungrateful. For all he knew, Genji had told him to carry that backpack.  
When they reached the doors Jesse again held it for him, and he felt another uncertain feeling passing over him at the kindness. He honestly couldn’t find a way to react to this sort of behavior that was relatively normal, instead shuffling through the open space and shoving his hands into his pockets awkwardly to avoid making eye contact.

“Say, Han. C’n I ask ya what yer project is?“ The voice was curious, still nice and friendly, but definitely interrogative. Hanzo’s shoulders tensed, fingers rubbing together anxiously in his pockets. There was no reason he shouldn’t feel comfortable giving that information, but he was decidedly unnerved by the idea that Genji’s friend might know what he was working on. It was supposed to be a surprise, after all, and he didn’t want there to be a preemptive fallout with his brother.

“I would prefer not to disclose that information.“ It was a bit harsher than it should have been judging by the way Jesse glanced suddenly in his direction. Hanzo exhaled sharply through his nose, prepared to defend his statement if the other argued. To his surprise and minor delight, there was no argument. In fact the man simply shrugged, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“’Course. Gonna kill a man with curiosity though, ya know.“ Jesse grinned yet again, all bright teeth in the illumination of the streetlights as they walked. The shorter gave a chuckle, letting a small smile spread across his face before he looked down to the pavement, watching his feet as they walked because if he watched that smile any longer he was probably going to be swayed by whatever witchcraft blessed Jesse with those freckles into sharing his plans. Hanzo looked up to the dark sky littered with barely there pinholes and the fat moon hanging on the black canvas, suddenly aware that he had absolutely no idea where they were headed.

“Where do you live? Is it far?“ The real underlying question that Hanzo felt himself unable to verbalize was is your motorcycle here?

“Nah. S’only a mile north so I hoof it. Ya good to walk? I could carry ya.“ The tone of his voice was too much, resulting in a roll of Hanzo’s eyes as Jesse barked out a laugh. It was followed up with a frequency Han’d hoped sounded annoyed, telling the fool he could walk just fine. ’Course, Darlin’. Shoulda seen yer face, though.

A ways into their comfortable silence they passed another couple making their way down the well lit campus streets. One of them seemed to light up at the sight of the man to his left, reaching up to wave brightly and shout a greeting. Jesse greeted with equal enthusiasm – two young women around the same age, one of which Hanzo recognized to be Lena Somethingorother from the electrical engineering department. She was a perpetually cheerful and bright young woman, and what she lacked in size she made up for in enthusiasm and genius. When she noticed Hanzo her eyes lit up, though he couldn’t fathom why as they had only talked a few times in their brief encounters, and she extended the same excited waves and British tinged pet names to him as she did to Jesse.

He supposed it was fair that they recognized one another – the campus was really pretty small and everyone seemed to know one another in some way or another. He had no idea who the taller woman to her left was, though she was absolutely stunning albeit exhausted. She stood about his height, soft blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun at the top of her head and blue eyes scanning over the two men sleepily. She didn’t seem to have the energy to offer a real smile, and Hanzo was rapidly relating to that on a level he hadn’t expected to relate to a stranger ever. Lena had been babbling to them for a while, something about a party down the street and the fact that she’d dragged this lazy bones out for her first ever “college experience“.

“An’ who is this lazy bones?“ Jesse asked, a bright smile on his face as he motioned to the other woman. For once Hanzo wasn’t entirely sure he wanted the interaction to end – this seemed like someone he might actually be able to get along with

“Angela! Introduce yourself to these two! Unless you’d like a charmin’ ‘who’s who’ from yours truly!“ The blonde tried to smile again, though it only tilted the corners of her lips and she gave a gentle nod, holding a hand up to try to stave Lena off for just a moment to gather her energy.

“I am called Angela,“ there was a lovely accent mingled in her words, and Hanzo sought to place its origin – German? Dutch? Swiss? – “pre med. Dragged out against my will. Normal Thursday night according to Lena, apparently.“ Her blue eyes met Jesse’s silently, an earnest expression on her face.

“In fact,” Angela continued, dropping to a whisper, “she feels no pain. I am convinced she’s an android.“ Lena gave a loud, playful groan, reaching out to push the blonde past them and shouting bright goodbyes. She needed to get her “angsty friend“ home before there was a mysterious poison found in her breakfast foods.

The two were left alone again in the street, both sporting bemused smiles. Jesse muttered something under his breath about Lena’s energy and they were on their way again. The campus slowly began to disappear behind them as they made their way into a more suburban area, an apartment complex looming ahead of them in the distance. A few minutes longer and they were climbing a staircase, pleasant conversation between them that mostly involved Hanzo asking questions about Lena and her friend Angela.

“Ya know – all’a this talk a’ those girls is startin’ ta make me think ya might not be so interested in what I got ta offer ya.“ Jesse was smiling sleepily, the tone still three miles short of serious as he grabbed his keys and fidgeted with the first door off the second floor. His expression brightened almost instinctually when Hanzo made a face that perfectly summed up the fact that Lena and Angela didn’t quite carry his brand.

Upon heading inside, he decided Jesse’s apartment wasn’t all that bad. It was clearly lived in, which Hanzo didn’t particularly mind – it was better taken care of than Genji’s room so it would suffice. There was a blur of movement to his right that his tired eyes couldn’t necessarily keep up with which Hanzo assumed had to be the room mate’s cat the other had mentioned feeding over the weekend. The Shimada lifted a hand to his mouth, giving a long, drawn out yawn that both satisfied and irritated him, and simultaneously had Jesse glancing in his direction.

“When do ya got class, hon?“ There was a gentle concern in his voice, and the smaller paused, glancing down at his feet in thought. Tomorrow was... Friday. Late start.

“Not till noon, thankfully,“ he reached up to his face, rubbing his hand over it to try and knock the absolute exhaustion from him, “it’s a damn wall of class till five though.“ Jesse winced in condolence.

“I c’n relate on that’n. All’a my classes are afternoons ta evenins’. Sure drains a man.“ He gently slid the backpack off his shoulders, setting it down by the coffee table that had a few half empty bottles of water and a beer can on its surface. He then stretched high above his head, the hem of his tee shirt riding up slightly to expose that telltale sliver of dark skin above his waistline as he groaned comfortably. Hanzo wished he hadn’t noticed. It was little things like this that were going to make it hard to put space between them in the future. It would have to happen, if the way he sucked in a tight breath had anything to do with it.

“Ya c’n have tha bed,“ he grunted, voice thick and accent getting harder to understand the more tired he became, „I’m fixin’ ta set up tha couch.“  
Hanzo frowned a bit as he let his view wander from the taut, fuzzy belly, wanting to argue the idea. Whether Jesse was aware of it or not, he was only going to be sleeping for a few hours and then darting out to catch the first train, so he definitely didn’t mind staying on the couch – besides, he was the guest. The guest slept on the couch.

“N’ before ya start, that’s what’s happenin’,“ Jesse made his way to a large laundry basket in the corner of the living room and sifted through it, finding a thick throw blanket and a few couch pillows and tossing them onto the sofa, „keepin’ in mind though, tha’ I wasn’ really preparin’ fer company.“ He made a beckoning motion with his hand, and Hanzo was trailing behind him obediently. This is unnecessary. You don’t have to put me up in your bed, 

_Jesse._

Jesse’s room was much like the living room – lived in but not dirty. He had a desk littered with papers and very plain bedding. There was an empty bottle of water and a wristwatch on the bedside table, and parallel to that was a large sliding closet with two full door mirrors. Here and there laid some articles of clothing (which Jess was rapidly trying to snatch up off the floor), and then an overflowing trash can next to a small entertainment center that sported a television.

“Make yerself at home, Han.” For a moment, Hanzo didn’t move from where he stood in the doorway. The fact of the matter was that he didn’t feel uncomfortable about being in Jesse’s space, which in turn made him uneasy. It felt sort of natural to be… Well… Anywhere so long as the man was there, and perhaps that was something to do with the way Jesse was just so unashamedly genuine in his own regard. Hanzo normally would have been fidgeting, would have felt the weight of anxiety on his chest when in the restaurant, or in the theater, and especially in a date’s bedroom - anywhere with someone he didn’t know. This… This felt okay.

“Are ya alright?“ Jesse’s voice snapped him out of his slight lack of focus, dark eyes settling on the man’s silhouette in the dimly lit room.

“Yeah – of course. Sorry. Just tired.“ Suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. Where he had been contemplative and tired, he was now grateful and overwhelmed. This had never been a situation he’d gotten himself in. He always sustained himself and made sure he figured everything out on his own so that no one else could ever hold anything above him. What was more off kilter was that he found himself not particularly caring so much – not with Jesse. Speaking of whom, the man seemed to feel the slight shift of aura as well, and carefully approached where Hanzo stood at the entrance.

“I won’t keep ya,“ Hanzo would be damned if the southerner’s features didn’t paint pure fondness, and he considered making a comment on it before the man continued, “but even knowin’ how tired ya are doesn’ take away even an ounce’a yer beauty.“ If Jesse had a hat to tip, his guest supposed he would have.

The unfamiliar surroundings and overwhelming stimulus had Hanzo itching. He wanted to remain relaxed and at home, and he feared that being left to his own devices might take that comfort away. He wanted to say as such – that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Jesse didn’t take the couch tonight – but his voice was stuck in his throat and he couldn’t summon it for the life of him. Instead, he let his eyes scan the man’s face – the curve of his jaw and the bow of his lips – and he’d be damned if his eyes weren’t trapped on the sweet curves of flesh that had felt so lovely slotted against his own last Friday.

Hanzo didn’t know when he started pining for Jesse McCree, but he was going to have to cut that off at the root ASAP. Or... At his earliest convenience post him reaching up to place his palm along the strong curve of his host’s neck to pull him close for a soft kiss.  
Jesse’s lips felt just as lovely as he’d remembered. They were still rough and plush and slotted so perfectly against his own and it left him just as flighty and breathless as the first time they’d kissed. After a moment, chaste and sweet, the taller drew back, his lips parted in slight surprise before they spread into a dumbfounded smile.

“So you do want what I got ta offer’.“ The statement had Hanzo rolling his eyes in amusement, his own smile small and soft and just shy of how he actually felt inside. Instead of answering he wrapped his fingers around the back of Jesse’s neck, pulling him in again with a fraction more intensity. Perhaps he was too tired to be held responsible for how addicting he found the kisses, but he wasn’t sure he’d be done with them for quite a while.

As they played with tentative and gentle touches - soft licks, nips, and bumps of noses - Jesse’s hands found his hips, large and gentle and so, so warm over the well fitted khakis Hanzo wore. When they finally drew apart the smaller felt warmth on his cheeks, and took a few gentle breaths to bring himself back to the present. One of those obscenely large hands left his body, instead untying the ribbon from his hair and threading through the long, dark locks.

“Want me ta stay in here with ya?“ The question eased Hanzo’s nerves, and he was nodding gently, face still warm and lips kissed pink.

Just as the track record marked, there were no awkward moments. Jesse grabbed some clothing Hanzo could change into for the night and showed him the bathroom just down the hallway. The clothing was, naturally, obscenely large on him, but as he glanced at himself in the mirror he found he really didn’t mind. It seemed like he only accepted and enjoyed being dwarfed when it came to McCree. He followed through with the rest of his nightly routine; he washed his face, ensured he emptied his bladder, and washed his hands thoroughly.

When he returned, Jesse was sitting up in the bed, knees crossed and still bathed in the dim light of his bed side lamp. For only a moment, Hanzo wondered if this would be another point where maybe social expectations might lead him somewhere he wasn’t sure he was ready to be. Perhaps he’d taken it a step too far with the sweet, almost needy kisses – but the other man hadn’t given him a single reason to worry thus far. As he took a few more steps into the room, Jess’ head swiveled up, his eyes making a clear trek down his guests’ body, finalized with a soft bite against his lower lip. For a brief moment the Shimada was even less self conscious of the shirt ending mid thigh and the basketball shorts that embarked far past the crest of his knee. He chanced a glance down at his outline, shifting a leg gently in clear response to the stimulus before he approached.

“Jeeze, darlin’. Yer a prettier sight than water in tha dessert...“ His voice was still tired, accent still thick and Hanzo was still struggling to wrap his mind around it. Once it finally clicked, he was shaking his head slightly with a shy smile and lowering himself next to the other, drawing his knees to his chest to tuck his feet under the hem of the blanket. He glanced over, resting his left hand over one of the other’s large knees gently.

“You are quite liberal with your compliments, Mr. McCree. “ Jesse chuckled, covering the Shimada’s hand with his own before pulling it up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his palm.

“Maybe so. S’been a long time since I found someone I wanna compliment,“ he reached forward with his other hand, brushing dark hair from Hanzo’s shoulder before he leaned in to steal another little kiss, “come on, lil’ one. Eleven’s gonna come way sooner than we think.“


	3. Blessings and Burdens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo wakes up in Jesse's apartment -- more specifically in his bed. Once he's finally home for the day Genji has to do all he can to get those juicy deets, unfortunately for the both of them, there are some remnants from their past that Hanzo can't seem to run away from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient with me. I had finals and then some really unsettling surgery and I was really kind of stuck. This particular chapter feels VERY choppy and awful and I'm genuinely sorry but I really wanted to get it out. It's actually probable that you can see where I cut off for finals, came back, cut off for surgery, and came back. ;'''D
> 
> The chapter has some good ol McHanzo finally -- I'm sorry for the quality. It's not particularly great but it is here! You'll finally get a bit of background on Genji's prosthetic, and why Hanzo feels responsible. There's some lingering PTSD, and he does not deal with it healthily.

Hanzo woke an hour before the alarm was set to go off. There was movement in the apartment – doors opening and shutting mingled with low meows and the chittering of a cat – and his light sleeper status had him shifting awake. They didn’t have a  _ cat _ . When did Genji get a  _ cat _ ? On that note, who the fuck was  _ holding _ him around his waist?

_ Jesse’s apartment _ .

The Shimada blinked blearily, glancing around from where he laid, noting the watch and water bottle on the night stand by his head. His eyes trailed downward, tracing the warm, dark arm looped around his midsection, and to the immediate right of his head, the twin arm that supported his neck. He could feel the pressure of Jesse’s chin near the crown of his head and he noted the way the man’s soft breath tickled his scalp where the stray hairs laid tussled out on his scalp. The pillar of warmth behind him was comforting and firm. This was... Very nice.

Hanzo stretched his legs out and pointed his toes, humming low in his throat in satisfaction as something popped pleasantly. Every stimuli around him became clearer with every second he spent coming to - the light drifting through the curtains on the window and the bustling of someone in the living room were first - but eventually he became  _ keenly _ aware of Jesse’s morning wood prodding gently against his thigh in addition to the man’s knee that was pressed between his own. As soon as that was made clear, he was rapidly focusing on the swell between his own legs and feeling an exceptional amount of panic. He briefly toyed with the idea of reaching down between his thighs to try and adjust himself to something uncomfortable enough to coerce the erection down, but the idea of drawing any more attention to himself than he already had made his heart thump.

A soft, breathy sigh from behind him had his back straightening taut and rigid because it meant that Jesse was probably coming to the present behind him. The arm around his waist tightened, drawing him firmly back against his host’s chest and eliciting a soft sigh by the crown of his head as the thick interest became more prevalent behind him. Hanzo was torn between finding a window to crawl out of and gently pressing his hips  _ back _ , which was a thought that greatly bewildered him. In fact, it was a very  _ Genji _ thought, and he needed to try and backtrack before he did something he would regret until his death. After all, Jesse was still very much asleep and that probably bordered on a line of consent that hadn’t been given, right?

There was another noise behind him and Jesse was certainly beginning to rise. His mouth clicked and his long body adjusted to stretch out stiff muscles and find a comfortable, relaxed position to rest in that included tucking his knee back between his guest’s thighs. Hanzo found himself holding his breath, wondering if he stayed still and silent enough that the other might go back to sleep. No avail. The arm that had been wrapped around him loosened, a large hand reaching to tease his fingers from Hanzo’s wrist to his elbow.

“Couldn’ stan’ ta rest till elev’n, hm?” Jesse’s voice shook him to his core, thick with sleep and honeyed his honey-warm twang. Hanzo swallowed hard; his tongue felt thick in his mouth and his already conflicted arousal twitched in interest.

“I - I would not say I’m not resting.” His own voice startled him. It didn’t match the way his heart stuttered in his chest - in fact it sounded more sultry and suave than he’d felt in his entire life and he had absolutely no excuse aside from the fact that he’d just barely woken up. Hanzo could feel the way the other’s breath hitched slightly in his throat, and he knew it had absolutely nothing to do with the words he’d said, but  _ how _ he’d said them. Jesse’s hips shifted gently in response, and Hanzo wasn’t sure if it was purposeful or just another gentle movement, but he was beyond hyper aware of that outline that seemed more and more impressive the more it shifted.

_ “Did you suck his dick? I heard rumors he’s  _ **_hung_ ** _ , if you like that sort of thing.” _

“Are ya sure, sug’r?” Jesse drawled near his ear, shifting to nose behind the shell to place a tender kiss there. The Shimada lets his eyes flutter shut at the sensation and let himself live in the moment, all concerns about preserving his dignity forgotten as those chapped lips peppered kisses along the pale expanse from behind his ear to where his neck met his shoulder, exposed from that oversized shirt shifting in their sleep.

“I honestly cannot tell if you want me to rest or not.” The words were playful and still plagued with that thick grunge of sleep, and Jesse only chuckled in response. The hand that had been teasing along his arm instead found his hip - so large and warm - and tentatively pulled him closer. Hanzo would later prescribe his behavior to having just woken up, but he allowed it, his thighs shifting apart so the other could slot his knee further, the top of his thigh nudging against something slight and tender.

“Mmm… I’d be kinda int’rested in kissin’ ya from yer head to yer feet and helpin’ ya  _ wake up _ , iffin’ yer up fer it… Got some time ta kill, after all...” Hanzo sucked in a shaky breath as a firm thumb rubbed circles into the muscle of his oblique, the hips behind him rolling again to remind him that Jesse was rearing and ready to go. Despite it all, the man went no further, clearly waiting for some sort of signal that his advances were reciprocated as he gave a sweet nuzzle to his jawline.

The Shimada spent a moment considering it, granted not nearly as long as he would if he wasn’t spooned up against Jesse McCree with a shaft pressing just south of  _ home _ , before he made possibly the most reckless decision he’d made in years.

“I suppose everyone needs a little help waking up sometimes…” Hanzo could practically feel the lazy grin the other man pressed against his neck before the entirety of the warmth on his back disappeared, leaving him cool and confused. The hand on his hip tapped him gently, coaxing him to lie on his back while two knees settled on either side of his waist, the southerner now straddling him and leaning in nice and close.

“Couldn’ agree more…”

Hanzo’s breath hitched as Jesse adjusted himself, resting his elbows on either side of the Shimada’s face and shifting his body down. He knew it was supposed to be sexual and that his host was working to elicit such a response, but he was mildly taken with the way the soft brown waves framed his face, and how his freckles were so clear in the soft light of the window. His expression must have changed because Jesse let out another short laugh, running his fingers through the soft black hair at the top of Hanzo’s head.

“Whassamatter?” The voice was both sweet and mixed with concern and Hanzo found himself momentarily overwhelmed with how heavenly his partner looked before he reached up to bury his fingers in those soft waves to pull him in for a sweet kiss. The morning breath is bitter, but neither seemed to mind as they slotted together neatly. He could feel the gentle thrum of a moan through Jesse’s lips, whether from surprise, pleasure, or concern he wasn’t sure, but  _ God _ did it feel nice.

Hanzo released a soft keen of surprise when he felt the heavy dick brush against his thigh - the basketball shorts he’d borrowed were bunched up around his hips by now and every ridge of his friend’s cock was completely tangible. Jesse adjusted again, dipping his fingers below the hem of Hanzo’s cotton tee shirt and letting his fingers tease across the rigid abdomen his little guest had somehow hidden from him. Hanzo arched as he felt a set of five dull nails burrow into his skin, tracing the muscles hidden under pale flesh.

“ _ Damn,  _ darlin-,” Jesse’s hips rolled forward to grind at the twin arousal, teeth catching a plush lip and nipping sharply, “ya didn’ tell me ya were packin’ heat…” Hanzo hissed in a sharp breath as those nails raked up and down, teasing soft, excited moans from his throat which became louder with each pass. The Shimada lost any semblance of control then, a shout escaping as two fingers found his left nipple and pinched.

“ _ Jesse! _ ” his cry was muted by lips and a hand clasping warm and firm between his thighs, sending a jolt through his spine and eliciting a rise of his hips. Jesse continued teasing, rolling him in the palm of a large hand through mesh sports material until he managed to collect his moans into soft, gentle noises.

“ _ Shh, Han… _ ” Jesse is murmuring against his lips, smile tangible, “room mate is still home - don’t want him hearin’ all yer pretty lil’ noises. Those’r all fer  _ me _ .” He could barely hear the statement over the sound of his own blood pumping but he nodded anyway, shifting his thighs apart in the limited space he had to give McCree a little more room. Jesse noted it with a teasing grin curling over his lips as he lifts one leg, nudging Hanzo’s apart with his bare toes to a slender ankle. Soon enough, there was a large, scruffy cowboy between his thighs, leaving sweet, scratchy 5 o’clock kisses down his throat and against his achingly warm chest. It was a straight shot toward the need pulsing with honest demand, and the Shimada’s fingers tangled rapidly in dark wavy hair in anticipation.

“Hey, Jess - did you eat the last of the -.” The soft voice was sudden and new, and both parties were sitting up, Hanzo backing up toward the pillows and Jesse up on his knees with wide, startled eyes.

In the doorway stood a tall, slender man with shocked, delicate features and a rich, dark complexion. He was clearly of south Asian descent, and had small, blue dots of paint adorning his forehead - perhaps from prayer. On that note, he looked just as startled as Hanzo  _ felt _ . Even so, he stood his ground, seemingly a little uncertain as to how to proceed in the face of clearly interrupting some heavy petting.

“Fer  _ real _ , Zen!?” Hanzo can feel the flush on his cheeks burning hotter with each passing second. He’s focused on the way the room mate’s features seemed to twist from surprise to fear, and suddenly there’s a boot hurtling through the air in the other’s general direction. A (presumably empty) frosted flakes cereal box deflected the hurtled footwear and Jess’s roommate was shouting apologies as he scrambled away from the door. It all happened so fast, and he was left in a damn daze for a brief moment before he turned to glance over to where Jesse was sitting near the end of the bed with his face in his hands. Now that the Shimada took the time to look him over,  _ he _ was the one left a little breathless. Jesse sat with his back to the wall, all corded muscle visible from where his shirt had rucked up during their romp and hair strewn from sleep and from where Hanzo had gripped it. Perhaps his guard hadn’t had enough time to come online since waking, but he was quite aware of how… Lovely the man was in the light of his window.

The whole experience had been a cluster fuck, granted, and he wasn’t sure he could even give a timeline of events leading from waking up to seeing a boot defying gravity, but he could say with one hundred percent positivity that he wasn’t deterred. He shuffled up onto his own knees and rested back on his heels for a moment, mind racing as he considered his options. The sweet touches and praises had been air to his lungs, and he’d be lying if he said he wanted to stop. Hanzo couldn’t explain where his confidence came from, but he shifted forward to the grieving man, swinging a leg up to straddle his hips and settling in.

“Han?” The broad hands dropped from Jesse’s face, and the smaller was met with those bright, pretty eyes and freckles littered across tan skin. Hanzo offered a smile, reaching to try and replace the oversized shirt on his shoulder as it slipped off of.

“Do you not think a shoe might have been a little harsh?” He lifted a hand, threading his fingers through his long hair and loosely tucking it over one shoulder in an attempt to keep it out of the way in his new position. A small smile cracked across the previously dismayed expression, and Hanzo felt his heart thump. The grin was slightly lopsided; it made one of Jesse’s eyes just slightly thinner than the other and he was left a little enamoured by the whole image.

“He’s’a big boy - he c’n take it,” he watched as the man lifted a hand then, letting it cup gently over the curve of his guest’s jaw before he settled it over the fabric on his shoulder, holding it there so that it wouldn’t slip down yet again, “whatchya lookin’ at?” Had Hanzo been staring? His eyes flicked down a moment, soft smile still there.

“Nothing at all. My apologies.” Part of him wanted to tell Jesse that he had an endearing smile, and that he wanted to kiss each and every freckle on his nose, but he refrained. Instead he lifted his own hands and cupped them along the edges of the other’s jaw line, leading him in for a soft kiss. “Now… I think we were in the middle of something?” It took only a second before the grin went from sweet to toothy, and Jesse was immediately back in the moment with him, amber eyes bright as he adjusted beneath Hanzo’s hips.

“Kinda surprised, sugar. Sure ain’t complainin’, though. But I gotta ask what it is yer comfortable with. I sure don’t wanna overstep yer boundaries...” Within seconds his host switched from a man excited to resume some heavy petting to suave but playful confidence, and Hanzo could feel the way the large hand on his shoulder shifted to let the sleeve fall and expose his pale skin again. The question filled him with a warm sensation, and again he was faced with the fact that Jesse McCree could make him feel safe and comfortable in almost any situation.

“I suppose I had not thought about it,” he began softly, tilting his head thoughtfully in response, “though I know I’m not ready for complete coitus.” And Jesse clearly did know, because he’s nodding and leaning in to kiss alongside Hanzo’s ear, his scruff tickling at his skin. Hanzo could feel the sweet smile on him, most lightly amused at his choice of vernacular.

“Ya seemed alright with my hand on ya… S’that still true?” He clearly waits for any sort of response as Hanzo pauses to think before giving a gentle nod. The man shifted below him then, a large, warm hand finding its way from the bend of the other’s knee and up to his groin. The interest there had flagged a bit, but it was eager to return, and as those digits teased up his flesh and under the shorts, he twitched in excitement. Jesse seemed to appreciate it as he felt over the fabric of those tight shorts and teased along the ridge of Hanzo’s length.

“Mind if I give it some air?” Hanzo hisses softly at the question as it came paired with another warm palm putting delightful pressure against him, sending more blood to the affected area. His fingers tangled again in the brown hair, caught up in the sensations as he shakes his head  _ no _ . Even as he did the preliminary search through the boundaries of what he was willing to put up with, he found that he had absolutely  _ no _ qualms, and would go so far as to beg the man to keep going. Jesse gives him a wolfish grin and he felt his heart stutter - he could get  _ used _ to this. Within a few moments and an awkward shuffle, Hanzo found himself out of the shorts and standing at rigid attention with the band of his compression shorts tucked under his balls. He was nothing short of shivering to get Jesse’s hand on him and a sweet keening noise emphasized it, rewarding him with a soft hum of approval.

“Keep tremblin’ fer me, darlin’. Yer doin’ great.” The cool air of the room on his shaft had his head spinning, and he leaned forward to rest his face against the crook of his friend’s scruffy neck to steady himself before Jesse’s large warm hand wrapped around him. Hanzo was sure the other was talking - he could feel the low rumble of that honey-thick timbre through the thin flesh of his throat, but that hand had started moving, rolling up and down his length, and there was no way he could concentrate on the actual meaning behind any of those words. Then a scruffy mouth was smoothing nips and kisses on the pale expanse of his exposed shoulder and Hanzo was gone, keening against warm tan skin and rolling his hips in interest.

A part of him felt pathetic -- he was absolute putty in Jesse McCree’s hands even though it wasn’t like he’d never felt himself up before -- but it had something to do with being wrapped up so neatly in the larger. He’d never liked to feel so  _ small _ , and call it character development but with his cock dwarfed in the southerner’s hand and that mouth claiming sweet marks along his neck, he was beginning to embrace it.

As Jesse worked his shaft he began to settle into this role, his hands beginning to explore slowly across the broad expanse of the other man’s chest. The breadth was strong and firm pecs lead down into a firm abdomen where he let his fingers dance in admiration, still allowing breathy and eager noises to slip past his parted lips. There was another rumble, this time vibrating his fingertips in addition to where his lips sat, kissing gently in the identical spaces on his partner that were being positively conquered on his own person. It was clear Jesse enjoyed the attention, his head tilting to the side as though to expose more of that heated dusky skin, and Han was more than happy to oblige as he teased his fingers underneath the hem of cotton to push it up to the man’s collarbone and bit a sharp mark against the side of his throat.

“ _ Han _ !” it’s clipped, and Hanzo took pleasure in the fact that it was probably because his free hand had darted down the pretty skin to the hem of the other’s boxers and stroked over the thick outline of what he could only describe as a  _ massive _ dick. His own breath caught as his fingers danced over it slowly, tracing each thick inch in absolute awe. A part of him felt a jolt of fear at the prospect of them ever actually going all the way (that’s not relevant, of course -- he’s not going to let this go too far), but the other part was genuinely excited for the theoretical challenge.

Jesse rolled his hips slowly as though asking for more, his lips withdrawing from Hanzo’s neck to instead pepper sweet kisses over his forehead near his hairline. Hums of  _ darlin’ _ and  _ sweetheart _ poured from his lips as his pretty guest touched and experimented, fueling both the way his own wrist twisted over the weeping length in his hand  _ and _ the courage Hanzo used to explore. It only took a moment before the smaller was brave enough to tug the band of Jesse’s boxers down, tucking it beneath his heavy sac in a similar manner that the other had done to him. Then he took a minute to just  _ look _ at the cock that was easily almost twice his size, tufted with a coarse patch of brown hair at the base and positively  _ drooling _ for him.

Jesse stilled below him, his expression changing to something akin to concern as he took in the look on Hanzo’s face. It was a mix between something hungry and amazed, and he shifted almost nervously below where his guest was seated.

“ _ Christ _ , Jesse-...” Hanzo ran a tongue over his lower lip, reaching to knock the brunet’s stupidly large hand away from him and allowing his own moderate length to brush undersides with the absolute monster before him. This was just obscene, and for the first time, Hanzo Shimada entertained the thought that he might just be, what they called in the community, a  _ size queen _ . Awed hands reached to grip around the base, to roll up and down over the heated shaft and to tease into the pooling pre in Jesse’s sensitive slit. And Jesse - well he  _ watched _ . No longer appearing nervous, he stroked his fingers through Hanzo’s long hair, smoothing it off to the side of his head to get a better view of his face and purely  _ observed _ as though the man in his lap was the most incredible, fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

And Hanzo himself was convinced that the image before him was the most incredible, fascinating thing he’d ever seen. In fact, as shameful as he felt, he was nearly salivating at the sight, wondering what the bitter liquid must taste like and pondering if he could even get his mouth around the thick head. If that hadn’t been pressed for time he might had tried it. Jesse seemed to almost read his thoughts, instead reaching between his mattress and box spring for a bottle of lotion tucked between them. He provided no answer to the questioning expression Hanzo gave him, but in all honesty he couldn’t care less why it was tucked there, but rather was thankful that it was.

They shared a quick glance, a quick expression of consent before there was a click of a cap and the southerner was squeezing an unscented drizzle of lotion over each of them. Initially Hanzo flinched -- it was  _ cold _ \-- but Jesse only shushed him sweetly and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, a small smile spreading over his features to sooth him. The smile grounded him and it was returned in full, all of his confidence and trust laid out on his face as he pressed his forehead to the man’s, enjoying the close contact and the way that his Southern host could fit both of them literally in the palm of his hand.

“S’good?” A moment to ensure they were both on the same page before giving a slow stroke up, the lotion easing his way and eliciting a sweet keen from the back of Hanzo’s throat.  _ S’good _ . Hanzo’s hips rutted up then, finding himself a little too close and a little too far and overall more desperate for friction than he was patient. Luckily for him, Jesse didn’t seem to mind. In fact, if the moan that was pulled from the broad chest meant anything, he enjoyed Han’s enthusiasm to be in this particular scenario with him.

That large hand set to work, stroking up eagerly and twisting with the new slick textures, teasing over the crown of Hanzo’s already weeping cock as he leaned to steal those parted lips away. The Shimada was already near to his brink, overwhelmed with every touch and husked moan that panted against his mouth. He was positive he had to be crying out, asking for more, because Jesse was chuckling softly on him and promising that  _ it’s okay, Han. I got ya. _

Hanzo didn’t last much longer after that oath, lips parting with a low cry to the ceiling fan as he was stroked through a spurting orgasm, making quite the mess of them both. He was content to take a breather against the other’s chest but Jesse grabbed the back of his neck, stealing those lips for a deep kiss, one where he licked away any trace of a continuing moan and swallowed the sweet purrs and whines of the pressure on the oversensitive shaft. His host hummed sweet nothings against him, telling him how good he looked and to hold on for just a moment because he’ll be coming soon. Barely seconds after he finished the statement the Shimada felt white hot release spilling over onto his tip and draining down over McCree’s fist and pooling around his base. The accompanying growl that was buried into a firm bite on his shoulder had Hanzo trembling, his hands digging into sleep tousled brown hair and pulling him even closer.

The aftermath was smooth. They stayed quite close, Jesse moving his free hand to hold sweet to the curve of Hanzo’s ass and kneading there gently as he soothed the bite with soft kisses. After a few moments they resorted to lazy kissing, both hearts thumping loudly in their chests as the indulged swipes of tongues and little nips against already kiss swollen lips. Beside them, somewhere on the floor, Jesse’s phone began to ring.  _ Time to wake up _ . Both offered a soft laugh, dragging back to regard one another warmly for a long moment before the Southerner’s expression contorted into something akin to concern.

“Aw, Darlin’...” The hand on his ass switched to his jawline, gently tilting his head from side to side. Hanzo felt a spur of worry rise up in him, expression reflecting just that as he reached up to gently clasp at Jesse’s wrist.

“Might’a been a lil too rough with ya - yer awful pale.” The words went straight to his gut, both interested and horrified at the idea that Jesse had left marks all over him. He had  _ class _ .  _ This,  _ right  _ here _ , was why he didn’t fuck around with people. Well, that and his crippling fear of disappointment and rejection paired with the fact that he was a workaholic that had no barriers on when or why he avoided breaks or eating. It was clear the other man was noticing the way his face contorted with emotion and he immediately went about reassuring him.

“Wait, wait, Han. I got somethin’ ya can use.”

“Like a scarf?”

“... Somethin’ like that.”

//

Hanzo thought he had experienced embarrassment before in his life; after all, growing up with Genji Shimada as your little brother was embarrassing enough in its own respect. Walking in with a red and black checked bandana tied around his neck, however, really took the cake. Aside from the fact that he looked like a huge nerd mixed with a train robber, the moment Satya caught sight of him she was instantly losing her reserved nature with a hand over her mouth.

“What on  _ Earth _ …” her delicate fingers picked at the soft fabric, worn around the edges as she examined it, “is  _ this _ ?”

Hanzo did not offer her an answer because Satya Vaswani was not a foolish woman. In fact, she was probably one of the brightest minds he’d met so far, and that's saying something because this was  _ Dartmouth _ . She eyed him for only a moment longer before her lips twisted into a devious smile and she returned to her desk where each pen, highlighter, and notebook had a particular place it belonged.

“Good to see you’re finally  _ dating _ , Shimada. I figured you would end up alone.”

He didn’t appreciate the lack of faith, but he couldn’t say he blamed her. She of all people knew  _ exactly _ how he felt about relationships.

“Not dating.” He grunted, flipping to a clean page of notebook paper which was a task in and of itself. She didn’t respond to the statement, only humming in amusement as Hanzo found his pen and marked the date at the top of his notes. The rest of the time before class started was spent with her trying to coerce him into giving her a name. He refused to give her the satisfaction, instead insinuating that if she wanted to know so badly, she could figure it out her damn self. She did manage to extract that Hanzo had run into Lena Oxton the night before, but he failed to see an issue with her knowing that. After all, it was unlikely that Satya would target an estranged mutual acquaintance for dirt on her friend.

All in all, class hadn’t been the worst. Once they were back in their element, the questions died and devious looks from Satya slowed down - finally. As he scratched notes in both English and Japanese, he found himself teasing over the tender purple spots below the bandana, sweet breathy sounds of honeyed Southern twang assaulting his senses as he tried to focus on equations. Luckily for his little friend he didn’t notice her staring, otherwise the entirety of his concentration would be null and void.

//

In the hour break that he tended to take for lunch he took the time to check his phone, coming to terms with the fact that he had missed  _ literally _ twenty messages from Genji. Initially he was concerned, thinking perhaps something awful had taken place and he hadn’t been there to help - but it turned out that the messages from his brother were just that; messages from his dumbass brother. They began early that morning when he and Jesse had finally gone to sleep, and flowed in steadily up until the middle of his last class, and almost every single one of them was absolutely filthy. He really needed to wash that boy’s mouth out with soap when he got the chance.

His fingers toyed at the bandana around his neck for a moment, realizing with crushing certainty that he wasn’t going to be able to keep his love bitten neck away from his brother. Hanzo sighed and stepped up to one of the restaurant stations in the building he was in and searched his pockets for some cash. He’d suck it up and eat. After the morning he had he needed the energy. Besides, he could use the hour to work on his prosthetic outlines before his other classes, and try to respond to the nicer of Genji’s texts.

[sms: Sparrow] No we not not “bang-a-rangin”.

[sms: Sparrow] I just slept over. That’s all. You knew I was sleeping over. Why did you send all this bullshit?

[sms: Sparrow] I will hold you down and extract that filth from your tongue myself if I have to, Shimada Genji.

[sms: Sparrow] Of course I’ll be home to make dinner tonight.

[sms: Sparrow] You are actually a demon.

 

//

By the time he stepped into their house, it was almost dinnertime. He’d been considering what to make on the train ride home, and was honestly quite surprised to walk into a house that smelled like  _ cooking _ . Surely Genji wasn’t responsible? He set his backpack down slowly, squinting at the dim light in the living room as he made his way indoors, shutting and locking their front one as he did so.

“Genji?” It was tentative, uncharacteristic of him when he had questions for his brother. There was a shuffle from the kitchen, and Hanzo followed it, full on  _ squinting _ at what he saw. The dining table had been completely cleared. One of the drapes from  _ his _ ,  _ Hanzo’s _ room was spread along the table like a runner, and four half melted candles that he’d never seen before in his life burned on top of the coasters he hadn’t noticed were missing from the living room tables. There were two places set, and two large paper bags that had to have been where the smell was coming from -- and then there was  _ Genji _ , who had sat himself at the head of the table, arms crossed and reclined on the back two legs of the chair, clearly having waited for his brother’s return.

“Ahh,” and Hanzo is considering turning right back around, because he  _ really _ couldn’t deal with this right now, “I see you must be expecting someone. I should leave you--,” the sentence was cut off by the thud of the wooden legs of the chair clapping down onto the linoleum of the dining room, and the elder found himself trying to shrink into himself, as though he had done something to deserve this nonsense.

“Ah-ah. Can you not see I’ve set this up for you,  _ anija _ ?” Genji stood, stalking toward him like some sort of predator descending on its unsuspecting prey. Hanzo took a troubled step back, not appreciating such treatment even though he’d never thought to expect literally anything less when it came to his shitty little sibling. There was a moment of tension between them before bright hazel eyes flicked down to the cloth around Hanzo’s neck, and every instinct in the elder brother’s body screamed  _ run _ .

“Is that  _ Jesse McCree’s  _ bandana?”

_ Run. Run. Run. Turn around and run, you dumb fuck. _

“Certainly not.” It was clear Genji  _ knew _ , so why Hanzo was lying, he couldn’t quite verbalize. Maybe it was just the pure panic of his little brother finding out what was underneath that fueled this useless endeavor. The younger took another step, purposeful and strong, and Hanzo knew if he wanted to survive this, he  _ needed _ to escape to his room.

“Is that so? So you went out sometime between yesterday morning and right now, purchased a particularly thinning, worn bandana, and tried to pair it with your nerd clothes?” A brief pause. “I believe, in all honesty, Anija, that  _ that _ is the most insulting lie. You know that you are far, far too devoted to your image to soil it with nonsense cowboy memorabilia.”

Hanzo was actually a little stunned at the moment. Was Genji actually  _ dragging _ him right now? The desire to run slowly ebbed, and his brother brightened at the way Han’s shoulders visibly slumped, defeat clear on his features. He felt one firm warm hand on a shoulder and a cool, clumsy one on the other, and he was being guided toward the table and pressed down into a chair. 

“So you’re wearing Jesse McCree’s bandana around your neck -- very convenient if you desired to  _ hide _ something,” and then he had begun to open the paper bags, averting his eyes from his very nervous, very self-conscious older brother, “particularly when you spend the night at his apartment and try to tell your favorite little brother that you  _ didn’t _ mess around with him.  _ Anija _ , you forget I knew him first. We’re  _ friends _ . We don’t keep secrets. He already told me you guys batter-dipped the corn dog.”

Hanzo blinked, the statement initially riling him up and reminding him how nice his room must feel right now before his expression altogether altered. Batter dipped the what now?

“I’m sorry?”

“You know. You guys got tickets to the bedroom rodeo?”

Another blank stare elicited a huff from his brother as he paused in taking the small white boxes of varying Chinese food from the bags..

“Oh, brother come on. You bumped uglies. You christened the yak. Did the horizontal greased weasel tango.” With each strange flurry of words, Hanzo was becoming more amused and more aware that the environment Genji had picked up colloquial English from was  _ far _ different than his own. Finally the younger seemed to have reached the end of his line, and sputtered out one final attempt of getting his intentions out.

“Jesse already told me you guys fucked, alright?”

There was a long moment where Hanzo’s eyes were fixed on his little brother, a very amused and dumbfounded expression crossing over his features. Jesse had done  _ what _ now? A surge of defiance bubbled up inside him, his eyebrows furrowing with the new emotions surging inside him. He wouldn’t just give that up to the other -- they’d barely known each other for a week!

“We did  _ not _ !” And he’s filing away a mental complaint to bring to the southerner the exact moment he had the chance. A part of him was actually a little disappointed and, dare he say  _ hurt _ by Genji’s admission that secrets - no, lies - had been shared with something so tender. “Jesus, Genji. It was just a goddamn handjob!” And Hanzo would have moved to stand then, positively done with this entire situation they’d found themselves in before the younger was gaping and clapped his hands over his mouth.

“ _ Anija _ !” Genji clapped his hands together in delight, the material of his prosthetic always dulling it slightly, “You did  _ not _ !”

Hanzo did not understand. Moments ago Genji was accusing him of going all the way with someone he barely knew and now he was being chastised for a freaking handjob? He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair.

“Seems like quite the reaction for someone who thought I had gone all the way with McCree.” He was clearly unamused, not enjoying whatever it was that was going on there - particularly not the part where the person he’d felt so comfortable with had spread something false about them.

“Huh? Oh - no that wasn’t true at all. I just wanted you to be honest.” While he popped open containers and spooned portions of food onto the plates, Hanzo felt himself let out a confused sound. It  took Genji actually looking back to him and explaining word for word that he’d not gotten a text from McCree, and that Hanzo’s admission to dick touching had been of his complete and total volition.

“You know, brother. For how smart you are, you’re pretty goddamn stupid.” He set the plate down along with a set of chopsticks from the kitchen - small things to soothe Hanzo’s wounded ego, as he  _ abhorred  _ the awful cheap wood that splintered into hands and mouths.

“Did Jesse make any mention of this?” There was still a part of him that was worried. Just the idea of Jesse spilling anything so personal made his stomach flutter sadly deep in his body. He couldn’t explain the feeling, really. Just that it was  _ their _ experience, and he was selfish and self conscious. After all, it was a blind date set up by his dumb brother -- there was no requirement for his new friend to stick around. Hanzo didn’t party, didn’t go out, didn’t do much of anything besides go to classes and study. Not that he intended to drag this out anyway but - it stung.

“Nah,” and it’s muttered around a mouthful of fried rice to Hanzo’s immediate displeasure -  _ don’t talk with your damn mouth full _ , “wouldn’t tell me shit. When I tried to tell him you said you guys already fucked he told me off for playing head games.” He seemed sincerely disappointed by this, but was too focused on his meal to really elaborate any further. Hanzo on the other hand was satisfied with the answer, a spread of warmth soothing his uneasy stomach as he picked up his own bowl and made motions to gather rice on the ends of his chopsticks. Didn’t make any of the other fears dissipate, but it sure as hell made him happy their actions were considered private and worth saving in Jesse’s mind as well.

“Are you still planning to go to his place over the weekend to help his piss poor ass with maths?” The question was cheeky - playful and almost mocking and Hanzo was  _ definitely _ picking up the undertones of something a little more devious there. On that note, however, he wasn’t particularly sure how to answer. His initial response had been  _ of course _ , because he wanted to see Jesse. There was something pulling on his heart and he wanted to be close to the scruffy heathen again.The more logical response depended on his work schedule, and whether or not he could get enough work done to be on time for his completion dates.

“It will depend on multiple factors, Genji. You know this.” He wanted it to sound a little more tired than it did, but instead it was just conflicted. The younger glanced to him with annoyance that clearly resonated from his soul to his expression before he gave a long sigh around a piece of chicken in his mouth and rolled his eyes in response.

“You know, I didn’t set you up with Jesse McDreamy just so you could ditch him a week later.” And while there was no real weight behind the words, they still weighed heavy on Hanzo’s shoulders. This was one of the few endeavors that Genji had pushed him into that he didn’t immediately and violently regret, but at the same time he certainly hadn’t asked for it.

“Would you have me lose my job or scholarships because I was too busy chasing someone around who was coerced into going out with me to begin with?” And  _ wow _ that kind of stung to hear out of his own mouth. Genji seemed particularly displaced quite suddenly, no smart remark floating to his parted lips before he glanced back to his plate. Hanzo wanted to swallow the words as soon as he realized the effect they’d had, but he settled for a piece of orange chicken instead. That wasn’t fair to say to his brother -- not after everything.

“You know,” and there’s something in Genji’s voice that has his elder brother even more on edge because it’s so  _ soft _ \- not boisterous or chiding or emphatic in any way, “you spend your entire life working and giving. It’s not like it would kill you to spend an hour a day doing something that makes  _ you _ happy.”

A tense silence followed the statement and suddenly Hanzo wasn’t particularly sure that he was hungry anymore, but before he could consider not eating, he chuckled. It felt foreign and sticky in his throat, and Genji’s bewildered expression made it even better for him.

“Working and giving make me happy, Brother,” and he’d be damned if they didn’t, “making sure that you are happy and safe --  _ that _ means more than anything. What is going on a date or running off to see people if you were in trouble? I  _ owe _ you that.” Hanzo looked pointedly to the prosthetic that curled almost uncomfortably under his gaze and slipped beneath the table.

“That wasn’t your fault.” Genji’s voice is clipped, clearly not enjoying where the conversation was going. Hanzo’s mind flashed to the design in his backpack, still horrifically underdeveloped and pathetic in terms of what his brother  _ deserved _ .

Hanzo’s chest tightened -- he wanted to scream. Part of him believed that if Genji put the blame on him, it might actually feel better. The flash of headlights and sound of squealing tires still haunted almost every nightmare he had, and boy were those frequent. He could still remember their father screaming at him -- how could he have been so careless, so as not to noticed his fourteen year old brother hadn’t buckled in.  _ Now look at him. _ Of course he knew that the real thing to place blame on had been the drunk driver that had blown a light a few cities away from their home in Hanamura. That missing seat belt may have saved his arm, though, and that would haunt Hanzo until he died.

His expression went blank as he fell into his own mind, blood, bone, exhaust, sparks, and screams of  _ Anija _ assaulted each and every sense he had - as real as the night it happened. Across the table, Genji’s own expression softened, and the scrape of the chair legs as his brother stood and went to the kitchen barely met his ears. Somewhere far away the sounds of a glass being filled with water infiltrated the screams and the scent of burning asphalt.


	4. Hanzo Shimada's Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji decides that it's best his brother has a few days off to get himself together. This, naturally, clears up Hanzo's weekend for the first time in months, which was particularly convenient for the cowboy who just wants some help with his geometry homework -- probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your patience is legitimately the best. I love you all, and I hope you enjoy this new piece of nonsense.

Hanzo didn’t get the chance go to class the next day. He woke bleary eyed to a few concerned texts from his boss and his body jumped up upon realizing that it was almost noon. Why hadn’t his alarm gone off? He felt a blast of panic before he noticed a small post it note on his night stand, empty otherwise. The message was short and in Genji’s scratchy writing, “turned off your alarm. called your boss. sorry, anija, but you need to rest”. There was a moment where he wanted to be angry. He wanted to text his brother and demand to know what gave him the  _ right _ , but as it were, he didn’t have the energy to. Ironic.

He thumbed through the texts from his boss -- almost a friend, all questions from where he was and if he was alright and to take care of himself. ‘ _ You never miss work, Kid, please feel better. If you show up on Sunday, I’m sending your ass home _ .’ He didn’t feel better yet, which made it even more frustrating to be at home at that moment, and the fact that he was missing two days of work over Genji panicking was troublesome in its own regard. Hanzo let out a thick sigh, laying his head back on his pillows and eyeing the ceiling with a particularly rigid expression, as though it was the cause for all of this. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Reyes hadn’t been so  _ understanding _ about it all.

He texted him back shortly thereafter, telling him that he’d fallen quite ill but that he’d be fine to return Sunday morning - in addition he was very sorry to have caused him any trouble. The last thing he needed was veteran soldier Gabriel Reyes being concerned over his well being. He was already scary enough in the workplace. Speaking of which, he really needed to work up the courage to figure out why the hell the grumpy old man had decided to open up a coffee shop to begin with -- it was an odd change of pace from the warfront to a modest little hole in the wall with excellent brew. A buzz.

[sms from: Jōshi] Already told you, kid. Show up tomorrow and you’re just

gonna be out the bus fare home.

Hanzo sighed a bit, feeling the weight of some sort of weird internal failure twisting deep down. Maybe this wasn’t such an awful thing. He hadn’t had full days to work on his project since the new school year had begun, and it wasn’t like they were behind on bills or anything.

The buzz of a new text had him glancing down, and he was quite pleased to see that it was Jesse, though a moment of trepidation followed it. Genji’s lips were loose, and he had no idea what had been shared between the two of them. In Hanzo’s own defense, he couldn’t really recall exactly what happened, only that’d he’d had an episode. He remembered the scent of burning rubber mixed with coppery blood and now dulled screams from his little brother - the asphalt scars on his knees from where he’d fallen to them trying to stop Genji’s bleeding. 

He pressed his hands to his eyes, letting his phone fall into his lap as he rubbed the sleep from them. First thing was first -- he needed to get himself up and try to be at least somewhat productive. Just because he wasn’t going to class didn’t mean it was a free day to slack. The Shimada stood, glancing down to the outfit he’d put on yesterday, still held to his body - even the bandana was still hanging from his neck. First thing was first, a shower was in order.

He discarded his phone into the blankets on his bed and made quick work of the bandana, and then to the button down. The idea of Jesse’s text had gone from positive to muddled and he wasn’t particularly ready to acknowledge it just yet. He wanted to ignore the part of him that told him to just  _ open it, he’s probably worried _ , deciding to let his brain win over in this particular scenario. After all, as Genji had said, he knew Jesse first - they were friends, and friends talk.

Hanzo spent a good long time in the shower. It was uncharacteristic for him to indulge, but his aching muscles and sweaty skin needed particular attention that afternoon, and there was something especially nice about being  _ clean _ after such negativity. He was happy to say that his mood had elevated a good few points even if there was still a little uneasiness residing inside him.

He dressed quickly thereafter; nothing special, just some sweats and a well fitted long sleeved shirt that sported some random place he’d taken his brother on a long weekend to get him out of town. If he was going to be stuck at home by Genji’s orders, he’d at least be comfortable. Speaking of Genji -- he couldn’t hear the little gremlin running around in the house. There was a small jolt of uncertainty - that fear that often struck him after days like yesterday where he wondered if he’d gone too far - but it dissipated. He was probably out with some friends, trying to give Hanzo his space. Sometimes it was frustrating, because every now and again he needed his brother to help ground and reassure him, but this time… This time he appreciated the absence.

He ambled into the dining area then, surveying the room. Naturally Genji had left the candles and the dishes on the table, but the food had been cleared. Hanzo noticed with a dismal sigh that his place still had a little over half the meal his brother had brother had served him left on it.  _ How ungrateful, Hanzo _ . The Shimada made a mental note to text his brother to apologize. While it had been overwhelming, Genji hadn’t meant anything bad by it. It wouldn’t hurt him to loosen up once in awhile.

He collected the dishes and headed into the kitchen, scraping the crusty excess into the food disposal and running the water to cycle it down with the loud, angry  _ thrummm _ from the machinery. Finally he turned to the refrigerator, glancing for any notes left on their whiteboard. Another scratchy message left in Genji’s awful handwriting glared at him in green marker and Hanzo only smiled in response.

_ Bet ya didn’t even wake up till afternoon, ya runt. I packed up the leftovers. Do me a favor and make sure you eat some, alright? I’m goin out with Hana. I’ll be back late. If you don’t rest up, you can meet me out back of the house at midnight for an ass kicking. _

“An ass kicking, huh?” With a shake of his head he rummaged through the fridge, filling up a bowl with some leftovers and nuking them quickly in the microwave. Now that he had a chance to smell the food, he was way hungrier than he realized. He munched contentedly through the bowl that spanned from pieces that blistered his lips to other pieces that were still relatively cold. It wasn’t until almost one thirty that he finally headed back into his bedroom to grab his cell phone, opening up his home screen to the text notification that still floated there.

[sms from: McCree] hey, han. your brother said you got sick last night. just wantin   
to check in. let me know if i can do somethin. i can make killer cambpells. ;)

 

He couldn’t withhold his laugh. Jesse was too much, too good to him for the short amount of time they’d known one another. He sat down on his bed, for once content to answer before he actually did anything else.

[sms: McCree] I do not think this is the kind of sick that soup can cure, Jess.

[sms: McCree] But if you would like, I my brother reminded me that I 

offered my services to tutor you this weekend. He’s subsequently gotten

me removed from my job this weekend, so I have free time if you’re

interested.

 

Hanzo paused before tapping send on that last one. He really needed to work -- he couldn’t just ignore what he needed to accomplish in lieu of seeing Jesse McCree.  _ It’s not like it would kill you to spend an hour a day doing something that makes  _ **_you_ ** _ happy _ .

He tapped the button to send the message off, the little whistle indicating it had zipped away to wherever Jesse’s phone happened to be at the time. While he waited for a response, he coerced himself into pulling out the notebook with all of his sketches and formulas. He easily picked up where he left off, marking the cheaply molded plastic and the corresponding numbers on the page. At the rate he was going he could begin to wire it soon, a cheap prototype that would be testable if he sent out word through the university community email. Hanzo just needed someone with a similar amputation to attach it. By the time his phone was buzzing again, he’d almost lost two hours, and it took him a moment to realize he’d actually missed a few different text messages from Jesse.

[sms from: McCree] you know id never say no to seein you, darlin

[sms from McCree] if you want i could pick you up

[sms from: McCree] im guessin ya must be busy. hit me up!

Hanzo squinted at the messages, sighing heavily and rubbing his hands over his face. His phone read almost four PM and he had to momentarily glance to his work. He’d gotten a hell of a lot done -- good research, solid equations, and a plan of attack to really get the ball rolling -- not bad. That being said he really had to text the other man back. He felt like an asshole to keep him waiting. The Shimada tapped into a new message, squinting up at the ceiling in thought.

His response was quick. An apology for not getting in touch sooner and that he would be fine to take the public transit over. A quick follow up included whether or not he was sleeping over, and if Jesse wanted him to bring anything. He packed away his notebooks and the prosthetic, zipping up the bag and proceeding to double check if he needed anything else. Another buzz.

[sms from: McCree] ill meet ya at the stop. the one on the corner of the

tech buildin, right? youre more than welcome to stay over. not a problem

id be happy to have ya. 

[sms from: McCree] aw darlin. your companys all that matters. but if

you have somethin you wanna bring, itd be my pleasure to enjoy it

with you.

In response, he grinned and leaned against his desk to rapidly text back his approval and that he’d grab the next bus. He tucked his phone away and packed a small duffel bag with an outfit to sleep in and one to switch to the following day. The Shimada paused briefly before he snagged the bandana off the bed and moved to tie it around his neck, stopping only momentarily to let the scent of Jesse’s cologne wash over him. One week in and he could tell he was in pretty deep, and while his brain had talked a big game, his heart was certainly in control.

//

When the bus finally pulled up to the stop, Hanzo maneuvered himself off, careful not to bump anyone with his duffel bag. It was weird to go out with the intention of  _ staying _ out, and even weirder to feel a rush of excitement when he saw Jesse McCree standing by the bus stop, adjusting himself up on his toes to see over everyone else exiting the bus. Once their eyes met, the Southerner grinned and waved over his head, and Hanzo let his body relax, a warm smile spreading on his own features. He approached quickly, having to remind himself to curb his enthusiasm as he did so, but the way he fluttered at the spackles of freckles and sweet, sun kissed skin made him want to move even faster, to run to his friend - boyfriend?

“Damn, darlin’,” it was only moments before Jesse chattered at him, sweet amber eyes whisking up and down his form, “ya just look mighty fine in everythin’ ya wear, dontchya? ‘Specially iffin’ it’s mine” 

The Shimada paused, glancing down to hide the stupid smile on his face before allowing his eyes to flit back to the other, an open red flannel framing a well fitted black shirt tucked into equally well fitted blue jeans certainly didn’t look so bad either. He wanted to throw a compliment into the conversation to even the playing field so to speak, and he thought he had a good idea of how to go about doing it. In fact, he had something nice and suave planned in his head -- something about how Jesse shouldn’t underestimate his own ability to be desirable -- but what came out was particularly ill versed and nothing like what he’d imagined.

“You are also able to desire.”

Jesse paused for a moment, and Hanzo felt his face light up, warm and obscene before his friend was laughing, head thrown back and absolutely jovial. It was only a few seconds before he received a toothy grin, amusement still apparent on Jess’s face. He clapped a large hand on his own neck, rubbing it and still fighting through a few short laughs.

“Was that yer flirtin’, sweetheart?” He moved the hand from his neck over to the dip in Hanzo’s lower back, smoothing it over the fabric of his shirt and letting his fingers stroke soothingly there as though to tell him just how he felt about it. While Hanzo reached helpless to find answer, still flushed and embarrassed, Jesse snagged his duffle bag, letting it rest on one of his own broad shoulders.

“Cause iffin it was, I could sure get used ta it.” And then Hanzo was being shepherded off towards the apartment buildings, the warm hand shifting instead to his side just below his ribs to hold him gently as they walked. For a moment, he let his own arm hang awkwardly, unsure of where to place it, but eventually it found its home just above the waistline of those well fit jeans and Hanzo momentarily entertained the idea of dipping his fingers into Jesse’s back pocket.

“You certainly would not like consistent… Compliments of that quality. I imagine they would only get more and more convoluted and awful.”

Jesse didn’t seem to mind the thought.

//

Jesse’s apartment looked different in the light of day. It was a little more cluttered than Hanzo remembered, but still comfortably so; he wasn’t ready to power wash his skin. He offered a spot on his sofa before trudging to the kitchen to grab something.  _ Water or coke? _

A few moments had them set up comfortably on the sofa, Jesse on one end with his long legs crossed beneath a heavy textbook and Hanzo in the middle sitting close and examining the chicken scratch equations over the other man’s shoulders.

“This is simple Geometry, Jesse… How in the world are you struggling with this?” It was meant to be gentle, but it was clear that Jesse was already getting frustrated just from looking at the pages. He heaved a sigh through his nose, and Hanzo worked to keep from rolling his eyes before he grabbed his own notebook from his backpack, searching - searching - searching for a blank page before settling on one and taking his pencil from the weak metal binds.

“Look. For the written problems you cannot forget that Axioms and Postulates are two  _ very  _ different things. We’re looking at Hilbert’s Geometry, not solely Euclidean. It’s truly simple -- you know these things, they’re just putting names to them now,” Hanzo scratched an A and a B a few inches apart on the paper, clarifying the fact that there is a line between them and discussing  _ Axioms of Incidence _ , and moving on to clarify that no more than  _ one _ line could exist between them. He continued talking, making marks and annotating definitions before happening to glance up, finding that Jesse seemed to be staring at him rather than taking in any information.

“Jesse -- Jesse are you even listening?” The sudden way that Jesse startled explained that  _ no _ ,  _ no he hadn’t been _ . 

“Yah - of course, darlin’. Axioms ain’t Postulates, s’gotta be a line between ‘em, an’ only one line at a time,” Jesse continued, hitting each and every point and for a second Hanzo actually felt a little bad for doubting him, “an’ also yer still real cute in my bandana.”

Amidst the blush rising on his cheeks and the grinning southerner, Hanzo continued onward, moving on to problems with numbers. He noticed that Jesse’s mood fluctuated considerably between frustration and elation at reaching a point of understanding before it would plummet miserably again. In fact, the Shimada could say with absolute certainty that he’d never seen someone fluctuate so rapidly when there was a math problem in front of them. He reached out finally, putting his hand over the textbook in the man’s lap and splayed his fingers over it. 

“Hey - maybe that’s enough for today. I brought a film I thought you might care for.”

Jesse’s interest piqued almost immediately at the prospect of putting off his homework. He grinned widely and shut the book on his papers, eyes trained brightly on Hanzo’s expression.

“Well well. Never thought you’d be one ta switch things up. Figured  _ I’d _ have ta be tha one beggin’ ya ta stop.“ He leaned in, face still spread wide with amusement to press a bright, happy kiss against Hanzo’s cheek. There was a moment of pause before he continued placing random kisses here and there amidst happy laughs from the smaller as two large warm arms wrapped around him to keep him in place.

“Jesse! Goodness --! Jesse McCree!“ He was a mess of laughter, the kisses tickling at his skin and leaving him breathless. Smooth hands tucked up against the chest in that well fit black T-Shirt, pressing ever so slightly with no actual force behind it as he tucked his chin happily down to his chest, trying to hide himself away so Jesse couldn’t tease at anymore of his sensitive skin.

“What’s that, honey? Yer gonna have ta be more specific.“ There was a thud as the geometry book met the ground, ten fingers then tickling at his sides causing a bright shout and a myriad of borderline cackling. Hanzo shouted in response, pulling his knees up and rolling backwards into the couch cushions, the back of his head meeting the armrest as he tried to grab at the other’s wrists, his own notebook and pencil fluttering to the floor.

“Yer laugh is absolutely stunnin’.” The compliment almost went unheard through Hanzo’s laughter, and it only subsided when he was able to jam his own hands below Jesse’s massive ones, getting between his sensitive ribs and those deft fingers. When he was finally able to open his eyes, he was met by that same stupid smile - a little lopsided with one eye smaller than the other - and he couldn’t help the shy grin that spread on his own face. Chapped lips teased his own gently before the body above his adjusted slightly, and the southerner was leaning in close to press their foreheads together.

“Is something wrong?” Hanzo’s voice sounded just shy of nervous, his hands slowly lifting to smooth over the other’s broad ribcage and up to his shoulder blades soothingly.

“Naw, naw. Nothin’ like that. S’just -- got a question for ya. ‘N whether it’s hell yeah or hell naw, I want ya ta stick around and watch this movie with me, alright?” Jesse’s voice was gentle and soft, like it had never been before, and Hanzo was actually beginning to grow a little concerned.

“Of course, Jesse.” More soothing circles, even as his heart began to thump nervously.  _ He’s not interested any longer. He just wants to fool around - no feelings. He doesn’t like you in that way. _

“Was jus’ thinkin’ -- really enjoyed the week with ya. Though’ maybe we might try goin’ steady. I mean, I ain’t been seein’ no one else but… Ya know. If ya didn’t mind breakin’ it off with all yer admirers…” There’s a bit of humor in that last part, but Hanzo hadn’t collected his thoughts past the  _ first _ bit. Going steady? Well -- this was sort of the thing he’d been actively trying to avoid. Once you give it a label, it’s an actual thing and much harder to sort out than legitimately anything else they might have had going that was somewhat casual. This was supposed to be fun, a way to pass the time and get Genji off his back for a few weeks! This wasn’t supposed to end up like--

“I think I would like that, Jesse,” a brief pause met with bright, excited amber eyes, “I’ll have to figure out what to tell the suitors lined around the block, though.” He was glad Jesse took it as the joke it was meant to be, still all smiles as they shared another kiss. A few more followed, happy and celebratory before Jesse sat upright, still grinning like an absolute maniac.

“So ah - ya can go ahead ‘n get that movie in, right? Gotta feed the cat n’ then I’ll jus’ make some popcorn and grab a few drinks fer us, yeah?” Jesse’s voice was a little shaken, and a quick look to his hands showed they trembled slightly. Had he actually been nervous, for this? To ask Hanzo out, of all people? Han reached out, gently taking one of those hands and using it to pull his boyfriend ( _ boyfriend! _ ) back down for one more kiss. He could deal with his own uncertainty and self loathing later - for now he just wanted to enjoy the moment.

“I think I can handle your DVD player...”

The rest of their evening was spent wrapped up a nice warm blanket on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn between them and sodas to each side while they watched Outrage together. Hanzo would mark it as one of his favorite nights, only second to that one night he and Genji stayed up until five AM playing one hundred bracket battles of Super Smash Brothers; Melee when they were kids.

//

The following morning was nice and lazy. Hanzo woke again to the gentle pressure of arms around his waist and Jesse’s erection against him, and he’d be lying if he wasn’t grinning ear to ear with the realization that it wasn’t just  _ friend _ dick, but rather  _ boyfriend _ dick. He wriggled gently in Jesse’s arms, so much more confident this time around, to face him. There was no evidence that the other was already awake aside from a bright smile of his own.

“Mornin’, Han.” Low and thick as honey was the voice that spilled out, and Hanzo was simply thankful that those eyes hadn’t opened to see how wide his smile was. The Shimada hummed his own greeting and nestled in, pleased at the sensation of those arms squeezing him closer. And closer. And  _ closer _ . He let out a small squeak at the pressure, and Jesse moaned lightly next to his ear as he stretched his body out and flexed his grip around the smaller. It was followed by a warm chuckle and suddenly the grip around him loosened enough to let him lay relaxed.

“I admit I was not aware I was dating a boa constrictor.” He reached up, smoothing his hands over Jesse’s stubbly jaw and pausing his thumb over the small patch of hair just below his lip. The stream of light streaked across strong features and Hanzo paused, truly overtaken with how euphoric it felt to lay there, a little too warm but happier than he’d ever been. His partner let his eyes fall shut at the touch, nose twitching almost comically as the pads of Hanzo’s fingers stroked back and forth against the grain of the hair on his jawline.

“Mm. Startin’ ta think ya might be tellin’ me ta shave.” He grinned, and Hanzo watched the space where Jesse’s freckled nose scrunched and exactly where his laugh lines would grow when he was older. The elder let out a chuckle of his own and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Jess’s lips before he moved to sit up, arms reluctantly letting him go.

“I should think not. Scruffy cowman is a good look for you.” The teasing lilt to his voice was particularly clear, and Hanzo moved to stand then, all legs in his well fitted shorts as he moved to comb his hair through with his hands and bunch it up at the back of his head. Jesse’s eyes cracked open and for a moment he looked as though he was going to protest, but instead he fell silent, smiling warmly instead.

“Ya know, not everyone from tha south is a cowboy, Han.” He shifted himself back on the pillows and propped himself up with his hands tucked behind his head. Hanzo let his eyes trail the muscled arms that escaped a black tee shirt so faded that he couldn’t make out the image on the front before he chuckled and shook his head.

“Perhaps not. But not everyone from the south goes to an Ivy League university on the east coast, either.” He twisted the length of his hair in his hands, wrapping it a few times and tucking it into the tie -- a nice, messy bun. Jesse chuckled and bit at his lower lip, eyes trained at the sliver of skin Hanzo was more than aware of peeking out just above the waistband of his compressions.

“Perhaps not.” Jesse mirrored. He watched a few moments longer before he slowly rose out of bed, visibly and audibly delighting in the way his joints cracked before he shuffled past Hanzo to the bathroom, stopping only to press a sweet kiss at his jawline.

//

After Jesse shaved and they had a moment to take care of brushing teeth, Hanzo was lead to the kitchen where his boyfriend began scrounging around in the refrigerator for breakfast. The kitchen was far more reminiscent of an apartment lived in with two men - dishes in the sink and dirtied pans on the stove - and Hanzo was legitimately itching to wash things. Was that rude?

“I never really got aroun’ ta buyin’ more cereal so I’m not real sure what ta’--.” Jesse began, ony cutting himself off when he realized where Hanzo’s complete and undivided attention had gone.

“Hey -- yeah -- I’m real sorry, Sugar. I know it’s kind of a mess and I shoulda’ gotten ta it way before now--,”

“Do you have eggs?” Hanzo cut the man off and stepped to the sink, reaching for a pair of barely used rubber gloves that hung above the faucet on the wall.

“Well yeah. Got some when Zen and I wen’ shoppin’ this week. But Han you really don’t gotta--”

“Could you gather three eggs for me? And could you get me your sugar? Have you white wine? I doubt you have mirin here… Or daikon. No matter.”

“Daikon? Y… Ya mean that big ol’ white thing? N’ mirin is some sorta vinegar, right? I think Zen’s got those here.”

Hanzo actually glanced away from where he was working with a surprised expression, having turned on the water to warm it up. He still considered searching for a substitute as he didn’t want to ravage Jesse’s roommate’s items, but then he considered it might be just as easy to restock, if necessary. He only needed a sixteenth of the daikon, if that, and a teaspoon of mirin -- he’d almost forgotten that ‘Zen’ was Asian. This would work better than he thought.

“Gather them while I clean spaces to put it all on.”

It looked as though Jesse was going to argue initially, but he fell silent, nodding and instead grabbing the ingredients and double checking with Hanzo that they were correct as he washed. Before long, all of the items were sitting in individual bowls and the other was beside him, drying the wet dishes as they were placed in the drainer.

“Ya know… I could get behin’ cleanin’ if it was always such a cutie next ta me.”

Hanzo glanced over, locked eyes and laughed, spritzing Jesse with the sink hose before handing off the last dish.

“Aww! Darlin’!” But it’s intermingled with laughter and before Hanzo could prepare, he’d been wrapped up in strong arms, a large wet patch making its way through the cotton of his own shirt to his back as he squirmed and shouted between laughter.

//

“Jeeze, Han. How’d ya learn ta make this?” Jesse inquired, his expression startled by the plate laid out in front of him with four sliced pieces of omelette formed into a perfect circles. Hanzo settled across from him, sighing happily as he sat down before considering the question. It was a pretty heavy one, he’d admit; one he wouldn’t answer for just anyone.

“When Genji and I were kids our mom died. I think I was… Ten or eleven. Dad always worked, so I had to figure out how to feed him throughout the day. Mom had a huge recipe book, but a lot of it was pretty complicated. I only ever really got good at a few basic things, especially because she never cooked,” a small chuckle, “did Genji ever tell you any of this?” His eyes flicked up curiously, a little taken back by the expression on Jesse’s face. Unsure? Nervous? Hanzo couldn’t place it.

“Oh… Nah. Ta be honest Genji n’ I met at a party a while back. He’s a fun guy ta hang aroun’ with ‘n all but I don’t truly know much else about ‘im. Other’n tha fact he can’t hold his bacardi.” While Jesse was smiling, the mirth didn’t reach his voice.

“Genji can’t hold anything. I doubt he can afford bacardi every night and he’s still constantly returning home a damn mess,” Hanzo’s expression twisted at the thought before he smiled and shook his head, “anyway -- it’s called Tamagoyaki. It’s not so hard after you’d made a few ugly ones.” He picked up a piece of his own on his fork and pressed it past his lips, sighing happily. He didn’t make these sorts of things often, so it was nice to indulge.

After breakfast they spent a bit more time on Jesse’s geometry, though he was having quite a difficult time concentrating on the numbers. It wasn’t like the night before when he could keep coming back after losing attention -- it was like he was lost in his own head altogether.

“Jesse… Either focus or tell me what’s on your mind. This is too much.” The confrontational tone in Hanzo’s voice hadn’t been altogether intended, but it didn’t go unnoticed, and the other man’s head snapped to attention. Lips pursed above the small patch of hair and the hand that held the pencil fidgeted it uncertainly.

“Sorry, Han -- just. What ya said earlier. Can’t really wrap my head aroun’ how ya both turned out so… Normal.” The admission was a little quiet, and had it not sounded so secretive Hanzo might have laughed out loud. Normal, huh? Instead he remained quiet. It was clear there was something swirling around that Jesse wasn’t coming to terms with, and as he’d hoped, silence provoked continuation.

“I mean. I’m guessin’ my mom was all I really had. Pa ran off ‘fore I was born. When she died I… Well,” a long pause, and Hanzo almost interjected, wanting to absolve Jesse of any obligation he felt to continue, “I wasn’t a good person, Han. Honest. ‘N comin’ here, goin’ ta school… Well. Five years ago I’d’a spat in yer face. Prolly did -- a teacher, I’ll bet. ‘N here you an’ yer brother…”

“Hey,” Hanzo’s face was stern, “everyone has to go through something to make their life worthwhile, Jesse. Sometimes what they go through is sad, sometimes it’s painful, and most of the time we wish it didn’t,”  _ sirens, blood, Genji pinned under a stranger’s car _ , “but if it didn’t happen then… Where would you be now?”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Jesse smiled, and Hanzo felt a weight slowly release off his chest at the sight. He didn’t initially agree, but it was clear the words at least meant something to him, though the question of  _ what did you do _ lingered in the back of Hanzo’s mind for the majority of the afternoon. At the end of it all, he was really alright without knowing -- besides, what would Jesse think of him if he knew why Genji was missing an arm.

“Don’t suppose ya brought two movies ya could use ta distract me, huh?” Jesse’s question brought out a small smile, and Hanzo only shook his head. 

“Unfortunately I did not, though I suppose we should have more time to study in the future. Though we’ll only quit if you promise to give me nothing less than your best the next time -- do you understand?”

“Sure do, Sugar.”

//

The rest of their afternoon was particularly lazy. They laid with legs tangled up on the sofa, still in the clothes they’d slept in, and alternated between watching Netflix and playing random competitive indie downloads on Jesse’s playstation. Hanzo was particularly good at them, though he chalked it up to Genji having made him play non stop when they were able to as kids. After a few complaints of, “aww Darlin’ no fair!” and few rematches, it was nearing three in the afternoon. Jesse had glanced to the clock, buzzing his lips as though in disappointment.

“What’s that for?” Hanzo inquired, still high off of his perpetual victories. His elation was audible, and he was met for a moment with Jesse’s tongue poking out at him.

“S’nothin’. Just. Zen comes home here soon. Was havin’ a good time with it just bein’ tha two of us.”

“Even though I kicked your ass at Space Crusades?”

“In spite’a ya doin’ as such, ‘m still pretty fond of ya. Best watch yerself though. Bein’ cute don’t absolve ya of all’a yer crimes.”

Hanzo only laughed, setting the controller on the side table while Jesse maneuvered himself upright. Probably time to feed the cat like he’d forgotten to do around lunch time. He’d learned that the man’s roommate had very specific requests for the kitty in question. It got three quarter cups of food a day, and required two treats in the evening. Sounded like his brother, really. He stretched high above his head and let his eyes fall shut, straightening his legs out and hogging the majority of the sofa for when Jesse came back. It was funny - he would have blanched at the idea of it the first time he was there.

Was he getting too comfortable?

“What’s goin’ on here?” The question was posed with amusement, and Hanzo cracked an eye open playfully, almost in a challenge. It was taken as Jesse hooked an arm under the knee closest to the edge of the couch and hiked it up, lifting the other to hoist the smaller’s hips up and settle between his legs.

“H-hey!” Hanzo yelped, partially enraptured by the way the bastard seemed to be able to lift half his body with no trouble at all and partially  _ viscerally _ aware of just how close everything was nudging together between his legs. Jesse visibly paused, arching a playful eyebrow and holding quite still for just a moment to see if he would be told off for such a brash approach.

“Want me ta stop?” It’s gentle, still playful, but the intention of gathering consent for something so intimate was still there. Hanzo might have broken his spine with how rapidly he shook his head, shoving away that annoying little worrisome voice in the back of his head that warned him he was getting too close -- too involved. What was it Genji had said? That he needed to make himself happy, too?

“By all means, Mr. McCree -- please continue.” Hanzo didn’t recognize his own voice, but it didn’t deter his partner whose lips spread into a wide, now very familiar smile. Two warm hands peeked under where his shirt had ridden up with the stretch and slowly pushed it high, exposing inch after inch of pale, muscular skin. They only stopped once Jesse had exposed his chest, full and firm. Hanzo tangled his fingers in his hair slightly, that feeling of being exposed for the first time making his heart pound against his chest.

“Dammit, Han… Yer always coverin’ these up…” Jesse almost sounded offended, his fingers slotting between the other’s ribs and thumbs tracing gently over his pecs, taking a moment to tentatively draw circles around the dusky peaks of perked nipples. They hardened under his touch, and Hanzo’s breath hitched, fingers pulling gently at his hair behind his head to ground himself. Then the southerner was leaning in, the thickness in his boxers grinding against the cleft of the Shimada’s ass so that he could press his mouth to the swell of the exposed chest.

Hanzo was almost ashamed at the way he shouted, his hips rocking and dragging over the pressure against most sensitive places as his fingers left his masse of hair to grip at Jesse’s shoulders. A throaty chuckle escaped around a pink tongue that darted out to tease one of those hardened peaks, visibly relishing in his partner’s reaction. Han’s voice tangled in his noises as he was laved and tongued before letting out a low, breathless noise when his nipple was caught between white teeth. The sounds only escalated from there as Jesse bit a trail from one nipple to the other, suckling and licking marks into the soft flesh there.

“Guessin’ it’s fer good reason…” he adjusted his hands so that he could pin the shirt by Hanzo’s chin with only one hand, the other teasing at the slick space he’d just left, “startin’ ta think ya could just come from having yer nipples sucked. S’that right?”

Hanzo’s back bowed, both from the sensation and from the words. It wasn’t fair for the southerner to speak like that, so gravely and assured, his facial hair scratching just below where his teeth had pulled and tugged. What was worse was that with every second that bled on with the way Jesse’s mouth licked and marked his chest, he was really beginning to think he might be able to bubble over the edge with just those lips and tongue. Naturally it didn’t help that a thickening cock was grinding rhythmically against his ass, either, and Hanzo was positive Jesse knew exactly what he was doing.

And that was how Hanzo discovered that he could, in fact, come simply from the pressure from below and teeth and fingers twisting at his oversensitive chest. He felt himself tip over with extremely limited warning, his hands diving into soft brown hair and  _ pulling _ as he let out a startled, eager shout that was a mix between Jesse’s name and something foreign that he’d be unable to translate if he was asked about it later. The man above him seemed equally as surprised, drawing back and cupping a swollen pec in each hand as he watched the emotions flicker across Hanzo’s face.

Hanzo barely caught how the other cursed above him, but the way that he continued squeezing sweetly had the elder shuddering, milking everything he’d had inside from between his legs. Once his eyes finally refocused, he caught sight of Jesse and immediately felt his face heat rapidly with embarrassment - particularly with how enamored he looked. Jesse’s lips were parted and his eyes were half lidded, trained on where his boyfriend’s orgasm had disrupted his face. Before Hanzo could try to say  _ anything _ , lips were on his, stealing and hoarding his breath.

Eggs and dashi lingered on their tongues, but neither seemed to mind as one chased the other. Hanzo vaguely wondered if Jesse was close now, as he’d begun to rut with purpose against the the split between strong thighs. For a moment, the elder entertained the thought of what it would feel like to be stretched impossibly wide, but he ignored it when he felt the warmth seeping through two layers of fabric, slick and intrusive against his skin. When they finally parted, the southerner’s eyes were glazed and Hanzo felt particularly warm and affectionate at the sight. He reached up to brush a piece of brown away from Jesse’s warm brow, and then their eyes met.

“Didn’... Didn’ really expect ya ta… Ya know…”

Hanzo was sheepish for a moment, glancing down awkwardly at his red and bruising chest.

“I did not think you would come from humping my ass… I suppose we’ve both learned something today.” He chanced a look back up to Jesse who was laughing, shaking his head a bit and sitting back.

Hanzo pulled at the band of his compression shorts awkwardly, shifting in his mess. Would it be rude to ask for a shower? Before he could even get the words out, Jesse was up, taking the elder by the wrist to help him up and lead him over to the bathroom. Fair enough.

They washed quickly, really only staying in as long as they needed to rinse themselves off. Jesse spent the time murmuring sweet nothings while Hanzo glanced off in the other direction and stayed quite pink. 

They had barely gotten out and redressed when Jesse perked up. Hanzo heard it only a second after -- a key in the lock and a familiar excited voice on the other side. When it clicked open, his face screwed up in frustration.

“Guess who’s home early,  _ boys _ ! And guess who brought the party!”

_ Genji _ .


	5. Don't be a Shitmada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bacardi and chronic doesn't usually mix well, and often terrible decisions are made during intoxication. Regardless, Hanzo won't regret this in the morning, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments and extreme patience with me. I know this is quite a bit smaller than my usual updates, and the quality is probably questionable as well, but I hope it's a nice stepping stone.

In Hanzo’s defense, he wasn’t entirely sure  _ how _ exactly he’d been coerced into the five shots of bacardi and four passes of Zenyatta’s larger than life bong. Never ever in his entire life (except for that one time during welcome week on campus when he’d been urged by some frat bro to ‘take a load off’) had Hanzo Shimada ever engaged in illicit activities. It was funny, really, considering the environment that he’d grown up in, and the people he’d grown up  _ with _ , but the kid was a straight arrow in all respects on and off the field. Now, though, he was feeling positively  _ delightful _ . All the old 90’s commercials Jesse had described where the people smoking weed flattened into their seats like balloons losing their air really seemed to hit the mark, and most of the stoner films he’d been coerced into watching with Genji had accurate dialogue for what had since taken place. Thus far they’d engaged in a heated debate over the amount of crunch in a Nestle Crunch bar -- was it enough? Was it too little? Was there more when they were kids or was their point of reference skewed by boyish delight? This was mostly headed by Jesse, who was, in all actuality, the only one of them who had actually  _ eaten _ crunch bars as a child. Hanzo seemed to be the voice of least reason when he suggested that the crunch to chocolate ratio couldn’t have changed much because they’d have to adjust the title of the candy to avoid false advertisement. Jesse digressed.

After the battle of American chocolate delicacies and a few rounds of a fighting game on the console his brother had brought (they’d bracketed up, Genji and Hanzo against Jesse an Zenyatta for an assured win), Hanzo found himself flattened against the couch, arm on the armrest and his brother’s legs in his lap from where the younger was sprawled out beside him, head resting on the opposite armrest. Jesse had disappeared into the kitchen for a few bottles of water to combat the cottonmouth (“ _ naw _ ,  _ Genji. Barcardi ain’t gonna cut it _ ”) they were all collectively suffering. The buzz of the alcohol was flirting with the continued weightlessness of “some damn good chronic”, and for the first time in a while, Hanzo actually felt like he didn’t  _ have _ problems at all. School? Psh. His grades were stellar. Genji’s arm? Totally on track to being finished. Boyfriend? Hot, sturdy, and emotionally available.  _ Boyfriend _ . A grin crossed his lips and he patted Genji’s shin appreciatively. What a good brother, helping him figure out so much of his life. Where would he be without the little bastard? He definitely probably maybe wasn’t feeling particularly affectionate just because they’d stomped the life out of the other two at Mortal Kombat less than twenty minutes ago.

“Hanzo. I’m pretty sure you’ve never been this agreeable in your entire life.” Genji commented, kicking gently up against the elder’s hand while Zenyatta stared glazed into the opposite wall, clearly blitzed out of his ever loving mind. The elder Shimada hadn’t known Jesse’s roommate very long, but blitzed out of his ever loving mind seemed a pretty natural state for him. He’d already been painfully relaxed even when having a boot hurtled at him, and seemed high as all get out before they’d even started their little party. Hanzo didn’t respond to his brother right away, grin remaining on his face as the world cycled lazily through his sluggish mind. It wasn’t until the words caught up with him and he let out a bright laugh that he finally tried to reply in a way that suggested coherence.

“I really have not, have I?” He turned his attention toward Genji who was still laid out, flush and boneless on the sofa, letting out giggles of his own in response. The younger drew his legs up, bending them at the knee before he pistoned a toe against Hanzo’s side, teasing against his ribs and up into his armpit, eliciting a startled shout and more ridiculous laughter that belted through demands of “ _ Genji quit _ ”, “ _ cut it out you little shit _ ”, and all other manner of fiendish obscenities. It wasn’t until he grabbed his brother’s ankle and yanked so that his head was no longer supported that Genji seemed to rethink teasing Hanzo altogether.

“Wait -- Hanzo no!” Hanzo had quickly clambered up and over with little regard to his squirming sibling’s protests, feeling quite graceful despite the fact that he was sure their entire situation was slow and pathetically lumbering. He descended on the younger with a bright grin, two layers of twin laughter poking through as he threw Genji’s feet to the side and climbed up to pin the younger’s hips with his knees. The little one was trying to utilize sluggish, drunken arms (God how many shots had his brother even  _ had _ ?) to slap and shove the elder off, accompanied only by desperate shrieks, but Hanzo prevailed, pinning one flesh and one silicone wrist up above his kid brother’s idiot head.

“ _ You know what happens to shitty little brothers that pick on their elders. _ ” There was a threat in his tone through the grin he wore as their mother tongue rattled against the walls, and Genji’s eyes widened and he started to genuinely panic. There was a stirring sound in the back of Hanzo’s throat and the immediate threat of a gross, weed smoke and bacardi loogie was looming ever closer in both of their realities.

“ _ Whoa _ there,” both Shimadas glanced to their immediate left where Jesse had returned with water, and Zen cracked an eye open from where he sat on the armchair across the way to survey the juvenile scene ahead of him, “not on our  _ couch _ , fellas.” Hanzo glanced back down to Genji where the wad of spit was only a wavering inch from grazing his nose. He squinted as if to remind Genji that the brat’s only reprieve there was Jesser returning, and that they’d  _ finish this later, thank you very much _ .

After pitifully slurping back his rather disgusting creation with an equally disgusted expression, Hanzo accepted the water bottle and returned to his crevice in the couch and Genji, likewise, scuttled into his own end like a frightened animal. Jesse took the space between them, heaving out a grumbling noise as he, too, sank back into the couch cushions. It took a prolonged moment for him to realize he was still mostly hoarding water and finally offered one to Genji and tossed one over to Zen who reached out to catch it without batting an eye. They all spent time chugging their respective bottles, and somewhere between Hanzo had uncapped and recapped, Genji had filled a few more shots for the near future.

“Mm,” Zenyatta’s voice startled the group out of their reverie, and smooth half lidded eyes found themselves trained on Genji, “have you heard back from Angela, my friend?” Genji startled for a moment as he set the bottle of Bacardi back down and he leaned back in the cushions, crossing his arms cockily. Hanzo’s back straightened at the name, recognizing it from somewhere and feeling particularly uncertain at the  _ tone _ Jess’ room mate was using.Was this a romantic endeavor? The elder leaned forward slowly to look over the steady rise and fall of his boyfriend’s chest to eye his brother warily.

“Nah. She’s not replied in a few days. Not sure what to make of it -- they usually hit me back up in minutes, you know? Cause I’m -- well. I’m really cool, right?” Jesse nodded at Genji’s rambling. Hanzo wasn’t necessarily sure the southerner was even paying attention because the words were horrifically ineloquent and about a  _ girl _ he didn’t know of, and Jesse couldn’t  _ possibly _ be so relaxed about all this, right? Then again, it wasn’t like Hanzo knew very much about his brother and boyfriend’s friendship… For all he knew this was normal conversation.

“Who’s Angela?” Hanzo asked quietly, the timbre of his voice sounding far away and almost foreign on his lips as he spoke. It had been like that after the second shot and first inhale of smoke, but it never ceased to be slightly alarming in the back of his head. To his credit, however, his voice was far less on edge than he thought he’d felt, because really, he couldn’t bring himself to be that  _ upset _ with the alcohol still coursing through his blood stream and the marijuana threatening to make him forget his entire question with little regard to how important it felt to him at the time.

“Oxton’s lil doctor friend,” Jesse supplied before Genji could put a stop to the conversation, “‘Member back to the night I took ya back to mine ‘cause you lost track a the time at the library? The two girls we ran into. Lena’s a classmate right? Y’all seemed familiar.”

Hanzo screwed up his expression for a long moment before a lightbulb seemed to flicker on somewhere. He nodded a bit, glancing back to Genji with an arched brow.

“Pre med, Genji? Do you not think that’s a little… Ambitious for a kid barely out of high school?’ It wasn’t even like Genji was that much younger than himself or what Angela must have been. It just seemed… Strange that he’d go after someone so dedicated to education when he was particularly well known for fucking and drinking through his senior year with people who barely knew their own names after a few shots. Hanzo wondered momentarily if he remembered his own name before directing his gaze back to Genji unflinchingly.

“Brother,” there was a playful glint in his voice as the younger leaned forward to eye him with a mischievous expression over Jesse’s chest, elbows resting on his thighs, “you underestimate my ability to bullshit my way through practically anything and everything -- and there’s something to be said about high charisma.” Genji popped the collar of his shirt and stuck his tongue out, and for a long moment, Hanzo had the rapt desire to pin him and dredge up more saliva. Instead, he grinned.

“Well -- Jesse and I know Lena,”  _ you are barely an acquaintance, you absolute tool _ , “and by proxy Pre-Medgela,”  _ what is  _ **_wrong_ ** _ with you, Hanzo Shimada? That is  _ **_not_ ** _ her name _ , “-- I don’t see why we couldn’t do something fun. You know. Maybe a double date.” Drunk and high Hanzo was not particularly looking out for his sober counterpart, but at the time it felt like the most reasonable option. He’d get to put Genji in a similar terrifying position that he’d been in, and wasn’t that worth the discomfort of a night out?

There was a distinct change in atmosphere around him that was almost tangible, even high and drunk as they were. Zen was still just as even as he’d always been, somewhere leveled between two planes of existence that were equally delightful and horrific and left him at the perfect balance. Genji and Jesse, however, had bristled slightly at the idea, and seemed a little startled that Hanzo would suggest it. The two shared a glance and remained silent for a moment before the great attempt to stop the plans from being made ensued.

Even under the influence Hanzo seemed to be an immovable force -- he had already forgotten the intention of embarrassing the younger and was instead set in a newfound desire of trying to ‘help’ his brother out and, near the end, he had gestured emphatically to Jesse with the words, “ _ you did  _ **_this_ ** _ for me _ ” leaving his mouth before he could help it. Genji only paused, visibly startled by his brother’s excuse before he sighed a bit and settled back into the corner of the couch. He sat there unmoving for a long moment with Hanzo’s eyes trained on him where he was leaning forward. The elder Shimada missed the way Jesse’s glazed eyes and slightly parted lips bore into him before the southerner was grinning and smacking a large warm hand on Genji’s knee.

“Well then, I’m guessin’ it’s been right settled.” Hanzo’s eyes brightened at Jesse’s enthusiastic support, and suddenly there was a warm arm wrapping around his shoulders firmly, holding him close in place. The proximity made his heart thump, and he glanced up to that freckled face that grinned warm and crooked to him before it flicked back to Genji’s form that seemed pinned to the couch from the horror of betrayal and the horror of betrayal alone.

“I can’t believe the two of you! You know, Hanzo, he was  _ my _ friend first!” Genji narrowed his eyes almost comically at Jesse, “and Hanzo was  _ my _ brother first!”

Both seemed about to reply, laughter in their eyes before a fourth voice beat them to it.

“Unfortunately it seems they have outnumbered you, Genji Shimada,” Zenyatta’s tone felt clear and intrusive to the three of them from his position, all three heads swiveling to meet the young man with his legs pulled up beside him on the armchair, one hand pressed to his lips in amusement, “perhaps your only option would be to humor them, would you not agree? Lest they bind you and drag you along regardless.”

A set of dark, obscenely dilated eyes narrowed over at the fourth person, only flicking away at a shadow of a cat darting under the armchair and then appearing in all it’s white and black furry beauty in Zen’s lap.


End file.
